


The Lives and Deaths of Commander Shepard: Reconfiguration

by MosaicCreme



Series: The Lives and Deaths of Commander Shepard [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Multi, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MosaicCreme/pseuds/MosaicCreme
Summary: Shepard struggles to deal with the loss of people important to her, while also trying to adjust to the changes she's made within herself. Meanwhile, life goes on without her as others prepare for the upcoming war.





	1. Prologue: Jane

**Author's Note:**

> As you read through Reconfiguration, you'll notice some changes, such as Idolo has been changed to Idola (as it should've been from the beginning). I continued to write it the wrong way after learning of my mistake for the sake of consistency in Resurrection. This will eventually be changed in rewrites. You'll also notice I'm employing more section breaks.

****

**_Garrus Vakarian by[hoxadrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoxadrine/pseuds/hoxadrine), Post-Cerberus Commander Dawn Shepard by [BlastedKing](https://blastedking.tumblr.com/), and Thane Krios by [squiggly_squid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid). Images combined by squiggly_squid._ **

**Jane**

Exhausted, Jane sat next to John, knees bent and ankles crossed. Together, they listened to Dawn, her thoughts snarly and filled with far too many emotions to keep track of. But at least she started feeling  _something_  again. She finally stopped vacuuming up every Shepard within reach, leaving the darkness a couple hundred voices short, but neither Jane nor John wanted to risk getting any closer to her. It seemed like most of the other Shepards had the same idea, pulling back, leaving Dawn in a sphere of seclusion.

"So, what do we do now?" Jane asked, leaning over until her shoulder just barely brushed against John's, letting her see him.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Not a clue."

"I guess we just wait her out." She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Maybe try talking to her again in a little while?"

"I guess," he said with a shrug. "Hopefully drawing her attention back to us won't just be ringing the dinner bell."

Dawn let out a loud, maniacal laugh, and it made Jane jump. John chuckled, so she slapped his arm.

"What the hell is she laughing at?" Jane shifted a little, readying herself to move if Dawn went on another feeding frenzy.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I don't think she even knows. Why don't you go ask her?"

Jane rolled her eyes and scoffed, making him grin. "Hell no."

She'd never tell John—not out loud at least, though she supposed he knew it all the same—but she guessed he really wasn't all that bad. And, he'd been right before, about protecting Dawn when Jane wasn't altogether sane herself. But watching Dawn crumble like that … they were both more than a little scared.

If Dawn didn't pull herself back together, what would it mean for the war? Hell, what would it mean for them? Dawn was slipping in and out of The Shepards' Private Hell Freakshow like it was nothing. One foot in, one foot out. Jane didn't think she was even trying, it was just  _happening_. During those times Dawn was out there, Jane got glimpses of what was going on around them in the physical world, but when she was inside … the outside world might as well not exist at all. The reapers could touchdown right in front of them, and they'd never know. Jane tried a couple of times to push past the restraints of Miranda's implant, but it was useless. She wasn't getting out unless Dawn wanted her out.

"What was it Anderson called the facility he brought us to?" John asked, pulling Jane away from her thoughts.

"The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary," Jane said, wondering if John only asked because the silence was too much for him.

She liked it, thought it was nice, the best thing about the whole mess. It wouldn't last much longer, though. With Dawn no longer on the hunt, the other Shepards were growing complacent, restless even. Jane felt them starting to stir.

"How long do you think we've been here?"

Jane shrugged. "Couple of days?"

"How long do you think they'll keep us?"

She turned her head to look at him, taking in his furrowed brow. "Until she either shapes up and starts acting right, or the reapers show up."

He licked his lips, and his own personal brand of crazy started showing through his eyes. "What if she doesn't, though, and they just leave us in here while the reapers destroy everything?"

Jane let out a heavy sigh. Dawn seriously needed to get her shit together. There was no way they were riding out the Harvest sitting on their asses doing nothing. Not after they'd come so far.

"Ídola?" James' voice seeped in around the edges, which could only mean Dawn was headed back out, or at least mostly out.

"Jane!" John grabbed her arm and shook her, earning him a scowl. "What happens if we're still on the Citadel when the reapers move it to Earth? You saw it, you know what happens to anyone alive when they take the Citadel."

"Fuck, John!" She shoved his hands off of her. "I don't know, okay? I don't have all the answers, I'm sorry. I guess it means we die."

"We die," Jaxon echoed.

"Fantastic, see what you did?" Jane sighed again, shaking her head. "You got them all riled up again."

"Hey, Ídola," James said again, and Dawn slipped away, the outside world opening back up to them once more. He smiled at her, setting a tray down on the table in front of her. "So, Dr. Chakwas said I have an hour to try to convince you to eat on your own, or she's going to have to force feed you again." He sat down on the couch next to her and uncovered a plate holding a sandwich and a fruit cup. He lifted the corner of the top piece of bread. "I made it myself, it's got all kinds of good stuff on it. We're talking ham, turkey—okay, so maybe it's not  _real_  ham or turkey, but it's got cheese, lettuce, tomato, the works." Meeting her gaze again, he lifted his eyebrows, eyes filling with hope. "What do you say? For me?"

"If we die in the war, before we get to use the Crucible, will we stay dead?" Natalie asked, a wave of longing rolling off of her.

Jane turned her attention to James, resolute in her attempt to ignore the rising tide of activity around her. Dawn turned her head, actually, truly, all on her own, turned her head and looked at James. The motion wasn't lost on him, lips parting as his eyes widened. It was the first autonomous movement she'd made since she collapsed against Garrus after seeing the blood in the cockpit.

Closing his mouth, he swallowed, searching her gaze. "Sounds good, right?"

Dawn lifted her hand, bringing her fingers to James' cheek and narrowed her gaze. Dragging her fingers down the stubble on his face, her thoughts were plain as day to Jane, which was saying a lot. Since her breakdown, Dawn's thoughts became incoherent and muddled, mostly just raw emotion, and then, after a few hours, not even that. She stopped speaking entirely, not even using direct thoughts to communicate with Jane. Just then, she was trying to decide if James was real.

Jane laughed when James' face took on a reddish hue. "What do you know, James? It's not so hard to make you blush afterall."

Recovering from his apparent shock, James reached up, tugging her hand away from his face and moved it to the sandwich. "Sorry, Commander, I'm not on the menu."

Dawn turned her head, gaze trailing down the length of her arm before it landed on the plate. Slowly, hesitantly, almost as if she thought the thing might attack her, she wrapped her hands around the bread and picked it up, lifting the sandwich to her mouth. Jane held her breath, tasting the explosion of flavors when Dawn took a bite. Good, that was really, really good. Maybe there was a chance she'd pull it together after all. Chewing and swallowing, she took another bite and then looked at James again.

He grinned from ear to ear before leaning against the side of the couch to watch her eat. "Hey, you eat all of that, I'll get you dessert."

"You think she's going to be okay?" John asked, scooting back closer to Jane, pushing his arm up against hers.

A few months ago, she would've decked him for touching her after the way he grabbed her, but just then, she needed the contact as much as he did, and yeah, maybe she'd grown to like his company. She glanced at John before turning her attention back to James. "I hope so."

James leaned forward, picking up a bottle of blue Tupari and opened the cap, handing it to Dawn. She took the bottle from him and looked at it for a second, confusion around the edges of her thoughts before she took an experimental sip, the berry flavor washing over her taste buds. Jane knew what she experienced was only an echo of what it tasted like for Dawn, but somehow, she seemed to enjoy it far more.

"Is she going to kiss James?" Aurora asked, moving closer to Jane.

" _Why_ would she kiss James?" Jane arched an eyebrow.

"I kissed James." Lusty thoughts rolled off Aurora.

"No," Jane said, dragging the word out, "you intentionally got James shitfaced and took advantage of him, knowing he'd already made it clear he didn't want to cross that boundary. People with a conscious call that rape."

"Maybe if the roles were reversed." John shifted around, extending his legs out in front of him, his elbow brushing against Jane again in the process. "I think James was just using the alcohol as an excuse to do what he really wanted. He wasn't too drunk to get it up, he knew what he was doing."

"Bullshit," Jane said with a scoff, "you saw the look on his face the next morning. He asked her not to talk about it again. It wouldn't have happened if he was sober. Fuck your double standards, it was rape."

"That's not really fair. You know I didn't have any malicious intent towards him. He sent a lot of mixed signals, and when I asked him what it'd take, he's the one who mentioned drinking more." An odd mix of regret and longing washed over Aurora. "What was I supposed to think? Besides, we were cool after, there weren't any issues on the ship or anything."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm not having this argument again."

"I really liked him, wanted something more with him," Aurora said, a touch of sadness to her tone.

Jane let the statement sit, she knew that was the truth at least. Turning her attention back to Dawn, she tried to focus in on the other woman's thoughts. The more she strained to hear, though, the less any of it made sense.

"I'm going back," she said, pushing to her feet.

"Why?" John stood up too, reaching out to rest his fingers on Jane's elbow, allowing them to see one another. "What's the point in being The Veil when she's just going to come right back in here. It's not like you need to play watchdog, none of us can get out now but her."

"I know, but it's easier to hear her from there." She patted John's arm and smirked. "Don't worry, I'll be back."

He grunted. "Good, you need to spend time in the trenches. Remember you're a part of this mess."

She arched an eyebrow, dropping her weight to one hip and crossing her arms. "You really think I could ever forget?"

"Sometimes, I'm not so sure." Dropping his hand, he disappeared from sight. "Just make sure you come back when she does. I hate to admit it, but if anyone in here can get through to her, it's you."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think she's got a soft spot for you, too." Jane closed her eyes, it wasn't really necessary, but it kind of helped, and she let herself slip back to that in between place.

Instantly, Dawn's thoughts sounded louder and more clear, but what Jane heard shook her to the core. It wasn't just Dawn, hell, it was barely Dawn at all. It was almost as bad as being in the mix when all the other Shepards had their crazy dials turned to stark-mad-raving-lunatic. Except the familiar flavor of the hundreds of Shepards she heard in Dawn's thoughts just sounded confused and in awe.

Jane didn't understand. Yeah, it became obvious that the others continued to exist on some level inside of Dawn once she did whatever the hell she did, but Jane never heard any of them once Dawn drained them. Why the hell did that change? Because Dawn was dealing with some psychological trauma? Or was it because she'd taken in so many more?

The thing that got under Jane's skin, though, making warning sirens blare in her head, was the lack of separation. Dawn wasn't thinking in terms of 'I' or 'me' but 'we' and 'us'. Sure, she'd been starting to slip into that already, but it was like she just took the concept of being an individual and threw it right out the window. Jane was barely able to feel out the edges defining Dawn, there was so much bleedthrough between all of them.

Dawn took a couple more bites of the sandwich and then drained the Tupari, handing the empty bottle back to James. He took it from her, the grin still on his face, and put the cap back on.

Setting the empty bottle on the table, he chuckled. "Damn, Ídola. You must've been thirsty. But hey, now I know you like them so much, I'll stock up on them for you."

Dawn didn't respond, simply turned her attention back to the sandwich. James leaned in toward the coffee table, reaching past her to pick up a remote. He sat back, and a moment later the vidscreen activated. Dawn's gaze flicked toward the new sights and sounds before trailing back toward her sandwich but stopped midway, her gaze locking on Joker's hat sitting on a shelf. And just like that, Dawn was back inside, the outside world gone in a snap.

Jane let herself slip out of The Veil. Dawn's sobs seemed to echo, coming at her from all sides, the only sound to be heard. The other Shepards held their breath, pushing back away from Dawn's presence, though within a few seconds, some of them started to cry, too.

"Shit," Jane whispered, taking a hesitant step closer. "Dawn? I'm … I'm going to come sit with you, okay? Don't go all vampire on me, alright?" She waited a few seconds, trying to pick out the feel of Dawn's response to her words—if she even really heard Jane—but nothing seemed to change. Taking each step with caution, she felt her consciousness brush up against Dawn's and recoiled, grief flooding her, nearly taking her to her knees. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed forward, reaching out to get a feel of where Dawn imagined herself to be, and then she imagined herself to be there, too. Sitting down, she lifted a cautious hand and settled it down on Dawn's shoulder. Dawn didn't even seem to notice.


	2. Garrus

**Garrus**

Garrus fluttered his mandibles, glancing between the two Alliance guards positioned outside of the door leading to Dawn's suite. Neither of them met his gaze, he guessed they didn't care whether or not he was there, since he'd already been cleared by the front desk. He almost expected to be given shit, seeing as Anderson placed James in charge of who got to see Dawn. Holding his authority over Garrus' head would've been right up James' alley, as she'd say.

She'd already been in the hospital for a week—and yeah, they could call it whatever they wanted, but The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary was a hospital for the mentally unstable—and it was the first time he'd worked up the nerve to go see her. He hated Anderson committed her there, hated the idea of anyone knowing she was there. He didn't want anyone to think of her as weak or broken … even if it did seem to be the case. She was the strongest, bravest person he'd ever known. Spirits knew he wouldn't hold up as well as she did with some other version of himself rattling away inside of his head.

Die for the cause. It's what every turian learned, hell, they made it their anthem. He guessed that made her a better turian than he ever was; she did die for the cause, willingly, and he knew if push came to shove, she'd do it again. He didn't think he could, not the way she did, not knowing it waited just around the corner and then marching straight for it, determined to make sure it happened. And then she came back, like the phoenix being reborn from the ashes she had tattooed on her back.

Then everything started going to shit. He'd been watching the fissures in her mind and soul grow for months, even as the cracks in her flesh healed. He tried to help her hold the pieces together, tried to keep her safe, even when it just led to them fighting and her feeling like she needed to hide things from him. He dropped the ball, though, as she'd say, not being where she needed him to be when she needed him there the most. Joker paid the cost, and it shattered her heart.

_He_ shattered her heart. He should've anticipated an attack on the ship, should've been ready to defend the pilot—even if the pilot didn't happen to be someone Dawn thought of as a brother. They were lucky between EDI and what remained of the Cerberus crew that they were able to get the  _Normandy_  away from the collector base before the whole thing blew up. They all nearly died on that base because he was more concerned with making sure the guns were perfectly calibrated than keeping the rest of the ship secure. Because he felt sore about being left behind.

One of the soldiers guarding her door shifted and cleared his throat, reminding Garrus that he still stood outside, staring at the door instead of knocking. He flicked his mandibles and knocked on the door before crossing his arms to wait. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself to see her again, he prayed to whoever or whatever might be listening in that she'd be better. He'd walk through the door, and she'd give him the smile she only used with him. She'd wrap her arms around his neck and push up on her toes to kiss him. Dr. Chakwas said she'd made some improvements but warned him not to get his hopes up. He couldn't help it, though.

A moment later, the door opened, James' imposing form blocking the entrance. Smiling, he stepped out of the way. "Hey, Scars." He turned, raising his voice and said, "Ídola? You with me? Garrus is here to see you."

Garrus followed James into the suite, past a partitioning wall. He sucked in a slow breath, trying to ease the ache in his chest when he saw her sitting on the couch, staring at Joker's hat resting on her lap. She looked so lost.

"Ídola?" James said again, picking up a remote from the table and turning off the vidscreen.

Dawn turned her head to look at James, and Garrus flared his mandibles. James pointed at him, and her head shifted again, her gaze meeting his. The utter look of apathy in her eyes might as well have been a clip emptied straight into his heart. Finally, he thought he understood how much it hurt her the day he rejected her on Omega. She turned her attention back to the hat, leaving Garrus completely deflated. He didn't know what he really expected … supposed he thought she'd look at least a little happy to see him, but she just didn't seem to care.

James winced, putting a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "It's not personal, mi amigo. She only seems to respond to me because I bring her food. Oh!" Stepping away for a moment, he went into the kitchen area and returned with a bottle of red Tupari, handing it to Garrus. "Here, try this. The red ones seem to be her favorite today."

Garrus turned the bottle over in his hand, mandibles flared and looked at James. "Today?"

"Yeah, it seems to change." James shrugged. "Just open it and hand it to her." He jerked his head toward the door. "I'm going to take a walk, check in with Anderson. Just uh, call me before you head out."

Garrus nodded, turning his attention back to the bottle in his hand. James seriously wanted him to—what?—bribe Dawn to pay attention to him with Tupari? She wasn't a child. Spirits, it was hard enough to see her like that without making everything feel even more desperate. He glanced up when the door closed behind James and watched her for a moment, scenting the air. She smelled like the woman he loved, but he wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing just then.

Crossing the floor, he sat the bottle down on the table. "Hello, Dawn." Flicking his mandibles, he smiled at her when she looked at him again. "Hmmm. I thought I might sit with you for a little while, if that's alright with you?"

Her gaze left his, moving down to the bottle on the table and stayed there. Garrus chuffed and she looked up at him again. His visor flashed, picking up on the brief flutter of her heart, and for just a second, he thought he saw something familiar and hungry in her eyes, but just as quickly, it disappeared. Her gaze traveled back to the Tupari. He sighed, picking the bottle back up and twisted off the cap, holding it out to her. Taking the bottle, her fingers brushed over his gloved hand, and a keen rose up in his throat. He cut it off, tamping down the longing and hurt.

While she drank, he stepped back and took off his light armor. He still couldn't handle his heavy armor, but he damn sure wasn't going to walk around the Citadel wearing nothing. He hated himself for being worn out just from making the trip from the apartment he rented two blocks away to The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary. He hated himself even more for heaving a sigh of relief as he slipped the extra weight off his shoulders.

After stacking the pieces on the chair, as an afterthought, he pulled off his gloves, too, tossing them down on the table. When he glanced up again, Dawn watched him, indifferent. She took another drink of Tupari and looked back down at Joker's hat. Garrus sat down on the couch, leaving a couple of feet between them, and studied the hat, too. He didn't notice it the last time he looked at it, but there was a fine spray of blood staining the white across the bill. He doubted her eyes would even be able to see it. She ran her fingers over the SR-2, gentle, almost reverent.

The briney scent of her tears brought his gaze back to her face. She just let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away or hide her face the way she often did, like she didn't even realize she was crying. He hummed without really meaning to, stopping himself just before reaching out to pull her into his arms. She looked at him, holding his gaze, and for a moment he saw confusion in her eyes.

After a long moment of silence, he flared his mandibles, searching for something to say. "So, I talked to Miranda today, she's still chasing after the Illusive Man." He tapped a bared talon against the table. "Jack decided to stay on the  _Normandy_ , she intends to make good on your promise to be there when the Illusive Man dies, even if you aren't leading the mission." He chuffed, giving his head a little shake. "I'll be surprised if those two make it through without tearing up the bulkheads in a biotic … what'd you call it? Pissing contest?" He picked up the Tupari cap and turned it over in his fingers, running a talon over the ridges. "Hmmm. I guess I should stop asking questions …."

He let the silence linger for awhile, and eventually she turned her attention back to the hat and her sports drink. He studied the bottle cap. "Dawn, I'm … I'm so sorry about Joker. Zaeed and the others, too, of course. But I know Joker meant a lot to you." He swallowed, shaking his head. "I swear I—"

She brought a hand to his face, her fingertips brushing along his mandible. A soft, longing keen tore through his throat, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Spirits he missed her. Every time it seemed like things were settling into a comfortable rhythm for them, something happened to tear her away again. He probably spent more time worrying about her and trying to hang on to the good moments than anything else in his life.

She moved her hand, tracing over his colony markings, fingers sweeping over his face, just below his eye before arching over the bridge of his nose and back down the other side. "Garrus," she said, her voice so soft the word whisper didn't seem adequate.

Heart slamming against his ribs with hope, he brought his hand to hers, pressing her palm against the curve of his face and opened his eyes. "Dawn …." He purred, turning his head to press his mouth plates to the inside of her wrist.

If he thought she'd smile, maybe lean into him, he'd be wrong. She watched him with the same look of indifference she had before, but she didn't pull away from him either. Maybe it was just his imagination; maybe she didn't really say his name at all. He chided himself, Dr. Chakwas told him not to get his hopes up, and there he sat, getting his hopes up. He flicked his mandibles in chagrin and squeezed her fingers before letting them go. Her hand slipped away from his face, and her gaze went back to the hat.

He blew out a heavy breath and just sat there for a minute, watching her while his heart settled into a steady pace once more. "Hmmm. So, I don't know if he's come to see you yet, but Thane is staying on the Citadel for now, too. Grunt said he's going to have Miranda take him to Tuchanka once he kills your enemy. Mordin went back to Sur'Kesh to work on the genophage cure. Samara left while we were on Illium." He turned on the couch to face her more squarely. "Not really sure where Kasumi is, but I bet James knows. Jacob's staying on to help Miranda deal with the Illusive Man and transition into her new role. Tali, Kal, Lia, and Legion are going to go back to Rannoch, but Tali said she wanted to make sure 'that bosh'tet, the Illusive Man, is really taken care of first.'"

Dawn looked at him again, her gaze seeming fixated on his visor. A moment later, she reached out and plucked it from his head. He chuffed, and her gaze flicked back to his for just a second. Bringing the visor up to her face, she fiddled with trying to get it situated over her own eye, the shape of her human head not very accommodating. He chuckled and helped her adjust the visor, seating it against the base of her skull. Detecting a new user, the blue, holographic viewing screen turned back on, returning the settings to default. He'd have to reset everything later, but he didn't mind.

He watched her as she looked around the room through the visor, her gaze finally settling back on him, and thought about what the visor might be telling her about him. He knew it'd tell her the basics, his distance, height, weight, points of weaknesses based on his species … it'd been so long since he bought it, he couldn't remember for sure what the defaults were anymore. After a moment, she pulled the visor off and handed it back to him, but he sat it down on top of his gloves. She didn't seem to like that too much, picking the visor up and handing it to him again.

"You want me to put it back on?" He raised his brow ridges, but she just watched him.

Chuffing, he nodded, looking down at the visor for a second before re-adjusting the brace and slipped it back into place. Once again, the screen turned on, showing him the defaults. Her heart beat strong and steady, the corner of her mouth twitched—almost a smile.

"Better?" He grinned, flicking his mandibles at her.

Her lip twitched again.

He hummed. "I do make it look good, don't I?"

She stood up, the abrupt movement surprising him, and then she carried Joker's hat over to a shelf and sat it down. Staying there, she seemed to be looking at something else on the shelf, so Garrus got up and followed, standing behind her to look over her shoulder. All of her things had been transferred from the  _Normandy_ , and on the shelf, someone had put her framed pictures. Her gaze held steady on a photograph of the two of them.

He remembered that night. She'd plopped down on his lap, surprising him and making him grunt. He'd laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist and turning her a little so he could see her face. She'd grinned, opening her omni-tool, and then a few seconds later, she wrapped her arm around his neck, pressing the side of her face to his and told him to smile.

Her gaze shifted to a picture of Joker, sitting in the pilot's seat, scowling at the camera. She picked up the picture and moved it to the top shelf, next to pictures of Ashley, Kaidan, and Liara. "Joker's dead," she whispered before repeating it again, a little louder. "So is Zaeed. We don't have any pictures of Zaeed."

His thoughts went in two different directions. One part analyzed her behavior and the fact she actually spoke when the doctor said she hadn't said a single word yet. The other wanted to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her neck, cry with her and tell her again how sorry he felt. He wasn't really sure how she'd take to that much contact, though, so instead, he put his hand on her shoulder.

Brushing his thumb back and forth over the bare skin just past her collar, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know, I'm sorry. I got there as fast as I could, I swear, it just wasn't fast enough."

She tilted her head back to look up at him. Something shifted in her eyes, and she seemed more lucid than he'd seen her since the day her world turned upside down. "It's not your fault. It's our fault."

He frowned, shaking his head. "It can't be your fault. Or Jane's. You didn't know it was going to happen."

She turned, taking half a step back to look up at him. "Our fault." Tears started to well up in her eyes, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his chest.

He hesitated, mandibles fluttering helplessly, but then he caved, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer. She tucked her arms up between their chests and sobbed, her whole body trembling as the floodgates opened up. A low, mournful keen seeped out of him, and he tucked his head down into the curve of her neck and shoulder, letting her scent fill his lungs.

When she stopped shaking, breathing evening back out, she stayed there a moment longer before disentangling herself from his arms and went back to the couch. She sat down, wiping the tear streaks from her face and drained the bottle of Tupari. She looked completely calm, as if she wasn't just bawling her eyes out a minute before.

He watched her, scenting the air but finding only the lingering scents of her emotional anguish. "Dawn?"

She looked up at him, the apathetic, almost absent look in her eyes again, and his heart sank. He made his way back over to sit next to her and took her hand in his. Running his fingers over the faint scars crossing the back of her hand, he sighed. He didn't understand what was going on with her, why she seemed to be retreating again after finally opening up a little. She'd spent days closed off completely, but when she leaned into him … he thought … Spirits, he needed her whole. Needed her to tell him what to do, the entire galaxy remained at stake, and she was lost. And, he just  _needed_ her.

"I asked Grundan Krul to see if Zaeed had any family …" he said, wanting to fill the silence, "... or anyone who should be notified of his death. He said Zaeed had a son named Bain, but there wasn't any evidence to show they had any sort of relationship. He's having trouble finding Bain, though, he signed up for something called the Andromeda Initiative and fell off the radar. Grundan Krul's looking into what the Andromeda Initiative is now, digging through the old Shadow Broker's records."

She didn't respond, not even a twitch of her lips.

"Dr. Chakwas said I've shown remarkable progress. Other than the scars, there won't be any lasting damage." He hummed and sat back against the couch, letting go of her hand and stretching his arm out over the top of the cushion. Carrying on a one-sided conversation proved more difficult than he'd realized. "The Hierarchy made several arrests of people associated with The Dissension thanks to the list you passed on to Primarch Fedorian." He tapped his talons against the soft fabric, mandibles fluttering. "Hmmm. Things are still pretty tense here on the Citadel, I received more than a few weary looks on my way over to see you. Spectre Protalus is still missing as far as the Council is concerned. Hmmm. What else? Oh, Anderson said the Alliance gave Admiral Hackett an award for his defense of Earth."

Dawn sighed, just a soft sound carrying the weight of exhaustion. He watched her profile for a moment, mandibles fluttering as he tried to decide whether he should just leave her alone. Maybe his talking wasn't helping her any, no matter what Dr. Chakwas said. It wasn't like he had much good news to share with her. Glancing at the door, mind just about made up to leave, he froze when she pulled her legs up and leaned in against his side.

He looked down, but he couldn't see her face. She tucked one arm in against his side and the other slid around his waist. Purring, he moved his arm down to her back, tucking her in closer and kicked his feet up on the table. A moment later, her body went slack, and he knew she'd checked out again, gone back inside herself with Jane and the others, he supposed. He sighed and closed his eyes, deciding to just be content she'd done so in his arms.

* * *

Garrus awoke with a start, neck stiff from sleeping sitting up on the couch. Dawn wasn't next to him anymore, and he didn't see her when he looked around the room. Panic gripped him for a moment, closing a fist around his throat, and he chuffed, shaking his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs. He didn't even mean to fall asleep, but he wasn't really surprised. Sleep had been rather elusive since Anderson took Dawn away from the  _Normandy_. That first night without her, alone in her cabin, surrounded by her scent, he spent the night keening into her pillows. Since moving to the Citadel, he mostly tossed and turned when he laid down, or just stayed awake half the night looking over reports and reaching out to his old contacts. Last night he talked to Jack for a few hours until she fell asleep.

Pushing himself from the couch, he took in a deep breath and started walking, following the trail of her scent. He found her standing in the bathroom, door open as she stared at her reflection. Her gaze shifted, meeting his in the mirror. She looked so lost and confused, it tore out a little piece of his soul. She turned her gaze back to her own reflection, and he watched her in silence, mandibles slack as his heart ached.

She lifted a hand to her face but stopped just before making contact. For a moment, she smelled of the same fear he'd grown use to with her nightmares. Moving into the bathroom behind her, he put a hand on her shoulder, a nameless feeling writhing along his gizzard making him feel like she was slipping through his fingers. He'd seen that look in her eyes before—even if the rest of her face wasn't as expressive at the moment—the night Brooke took over as Dawn started waking up from her coma. She'd seen Dawn's face in Spike's terrarium and lost it.

The sound of the front door sliding open drew his attention, and he guided Dawn out of the bathroom. She followed without complaint, going wherever his hand led her. James and Dr. Chakwas stood in the living room area, glancing around.

Dr. Chakwas' gaze found Garrus, and she smiled. "Ah, there you two are."

He flicked his mandibles, giving her a smile. "Yeah … we were just checking out how incredibly attractive we both are." Squeezing Dawn's shoulder a little, he led her back to the couch. "There really should be mirrors in every room."

Dr. Chakwas scoffed, waving her hand. "When you get to be my age, mirrors are  _not_  your friends."

James nudged Dr. Chakwas. "Come on, doc, you're still—"

"Lieutenant Vega," she said, arching her eyebrow and pointing at him, "you finish that sentence, and I'll have Garrus shoot you."

Garrus chuckled, sitting down next to Dawn. "Just say the word."

James sat down on the other side of Dawn, taking up as much space as possible, as if he didn't take up enough without trying. "What? I'm just sayin' you don't have anything to worry about."

Dr. Chakwas snorted softly, rolling her eyes as she sat down in a chair near the couch, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. She turned her attention to Dawn and asked, "How are you feeling today, Commander?"

All eyes turned to Dawn, but she didn't meet anyone's gaze. Instead, she stared fixedly at the shelf holding her photographs and Joker's hat. Garrus half expected her to go back to the shelf again, but she didn't leave his side.

After nearly a minute of silence, he hummed and looked back to the doctor. "She talked a little, earlier."

"For real?" James glanced at Garrus, eyebrows raised, from over Dawn's head.

"Oh? That's fantastic!" Dr. Chakwas leaned forward, opening her omni-tool before turning her attention back to him. "What did she say?"

Garrus fluttered his mandibles, gaze flicking to Dawn instinctively, seeking her guidance but not finding any. He forced his attention back to Dr. Chakwas, waiting for him to answer. "Hmmm. She didn't really say much. She uh, she touched my face, and I thought I heard her say my name then. A few minutes later, she carried Joker's hat over to the shelf," he said, pointing at the hat, "and started looking at the pictures. She told me Joker's dead and so is Zaeed then said something about not having any pictures of Zaeed."

He shifted, turning a little more towards Dawn and took her hand in his. He hated talking about her as if she wasn't there, wished she'd say something else, take part in the conversation. Throat tightening, he took a deep breath and swallowed down the grief threatening to break through the surface again.

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking at their hands while he thought back on their brief conversation. "I tried to apologize … for Joker. She said it isn't my fault and tried to blame herself and Jane. I told her it couldn't be their fault, but she just said, 'Our fault.'" Looking back at the doctor, he cleared his throat, all to aware of his voice cracking as he spoke. "She started crying and leaned into me."

Dr. Chakwas' gaze flicked back up from her omni-tool. "Anything else?"

Garrus shook his head. "No." But, Spirits, he wished she'd given him more.

"She touched my face when I sat down next to her the other day, too." James leaned forward a little, glancing between Garrus and Dr. Chakwas. "What's that about?"

"I'm not entirely sure." Dr. Chakwas shook her head. "She did the same to me when I checked on her yesterday. It's possible she's trying to reassert herself on reality—unable or unwilling to rely entirely on her other senses. Perhaps touch is helping to anchor her."

"Well, there you go, Scars." James waggled his eyebrows, a smirk covering his face.

Garrus chuffed, flicking his mandibles and shaking his head. Right, like Dawn had any interest in anything sexual, she barely acknowledged his presence from one minute to the next. He turned his attention back to Dr. Chakwas before he decided to cuff the marine; he knew James meant it as a joke, but Garrus didn't find much humor in the situation. "So, you're saying she isn't sure we're real?"

"I believe so. We know she was already experiencing memories from those Shepards she … absorbed during her coma, and it only increased when she took in more later. Her mental status was already fragile, adding trauma on top of that, particularly losing someone she was close to … it makes sense that a part of her would revert to a reality where Joker still lives."

"The memories from the other Shepards are more real to her right now than we are?" James furrowed his brow.

"Precisely." Dr. Chakwas nodded. "But, she  _is_  showing signs of processing this trauma and is slowly reorienting back to this, more painful, reality."

"After she stopped crying, she sat back down and it was just like it never happened. I tried talking to her a little more, but she didn't say anything else. After a little while, she leaned in against me and just disappeared again." He fluttered his mandibles, embarrassed to admit he spent half his time with her sleeping, but he fessed up. "I fell asleep for awhile, and when I woke up, I found her in the bathroom looking in the mirror. I think—I'm not sure she really recognizes her own reflection."

"Why do you think that?" Dr. Chakwas' hand moved back to her omni-tool.

He shook his head, swallowing again and flared his mandibles. "Just the look in her eyes, I guess. And the way she started to touch her face but stopped half an inch away. It reminded me of the night Brooke panicked when she saw Dawn's face."

Dr. Chakwas hummed, and he almost saw the gears turning in her head. James turned his attention to Dawn, studying her face as if he expected to see something different than a moment before. Garrus lifted a hand, careful of his bare talons, and scooped a lock of hair back out of her face, tucking it behind her ear—a gesture that once would've certainly brought a smile to her face but not anymore.

"I suppose it's possible, with the memories, from time to time when she looks in the mirror she isn't seeing herself." Dr. Chakwas bobbed her head from side to side. "It might even simply be the influence of emotions coming from the other Shepards, like Brooke, they see Dawn's face instead of their own, and it troubles them."

"So, is there anything we can do to help her, you know, re-adjust faster?" James asked, giving voice to Garrus' thoughts.

Dr. Chakwas smiled, leaning back in her chair again and closing her omni-tool. "Ultimately it's something she has to do on her own, but being here with her, talking to her, even touching her in ways we normally touch her  _is_  helping."

James spread his hands apart, palms up. "That's it?"

It occured to Garrus that James' nickname for Dawn meant more than just a term of endearment. He really did idolize her, and seeing her fall apart had to be messing with his head, too. Garrus wondered what James talked to her about when no one else was around. Maybe he gave her pep talks, it seemed like something he'd do.

"Well, now that she's eating and moving around on her own again, I suppose encouraging proper nutrition and exercise will also be helpful." Dr. Chakwas glanced pointedly at the empty bottle of Tupari and then at Garrus.

He fluttered his mandibles, brow ridges hiking up. "Don't look at me, James gave it to me to give to her."

"What?" James shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. "She likes them."

Dr. Chakwas scoffed, taking on a motherly tone. "Regardless, things like Tupari should be limited. They aren't healthy."

Dawn told Garrus one night that Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Tulina were more than just friends, and Dr. Tulina was pregnant when the collectors hit the old  _Normandy_. It was a shame, he thought Dr. Chakwas would've made a wonderful … father. Though, if he were completely honest, a part of him thought Dr. Tulina had to be insane to have stayed on the  _Normandy_  in her condition. She'd been in Dawn's head, she knew what they were up against … and how it would end.

He cleared his throat, pushing the thought away and changing the subject. "Has Thane been to see her yet?" Fluttering his mandibles, he looked down at Dawn's hand in his as she began running her thumb along his knuckles.

His heart gave a few, rapid thumps against his ribs, and he smiled, tightening his grip on her hand just a little. She was still in there. His Dawn was still in there, and he'd keep fighting to pull her back out. Anything she needed. Anything.

"Yeah, he came by on her third day here. Said he wanted to give her a couple of days to settle in." James hesitated a moment, looking at Dawn. "She was still pretty out of it, though, I don't think she even knew he was here. He left after a couple of hours; he had a meeting with a hanar diplomat. He was going to talk to them about the reapers. I haven't heard from him since."

Dawn's hand twitched in Garrus' grip, and then her caressing stopped. He looked at her, and her eyes glazed over, hand going limp in his. His mandibles drooped, and he let out a soft sigh.

"It's okay, Garrus." Dr. Chakwas' voice took on that soft, concerned coo she often used when Dawn or Jane became upset over something, and he didn't particularly like hearing it directed at him. She offered him a warm smile. "This didn't happen to her overnight; it's not going to fix itself overnight, either."

Something in him retreated, a shutter slamming down, protecting him from the ache and the fear. He'd waited two years for Dawn to come back to him, but as soon as she did, he started losing her again. Was it just more wishful thinking to believe he might help piece her back together again? How much could one woman go through and still come through the other side? What if it was what the rest of their life would be like together?

Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, with the way she was just then, she wouldn't be fighting in the war let alone activating the Crucible. Maybe it was the answer to how she survived the war. He chuffed, hanging his head while he stared at the floor in front of him. Spirits, who the hell would wish something like that for someone they loved?


	3. Sparatus

**Sparatus**

"I don't recall asking for your opinion." Sparatus snapped his mandibles in tight against his face.

If Adrien thought for one minute he wouldn't beat the other turian over the head with his cane, well, the general had another thought coming. Sparatus took a few steps closer, forcing his mandibles to relax and straightened his spine, meeting the other turian eye to eye despite his injuries.

Adrien flared his mandibles, tucking his hands behind his back and shaking his head. "Be that as it may, you're even more foolish than I thought if you won't listen to reason. The primarch has given you leave to move troops against The Dissension, but he didn't mean you can just throw lives away."

"I'm not throwing lives away, I'm putting them to good use." Sparatus turned, the shocks of pain from still healing nerves shooting down his legs forcing him back to his desk. He eased himself into the chair, glaring at Adrien, daring the general to comment on his weakness. "Victory doesn't come without risks and costs, General Victus. You, of all people with your service record, should understand this reality."

"What I understand,  _sir_ , is this human, Commander Shepard, has managed to convince the primarch the reaper threat she speaks of is real." Adrien crossed the floor to sit down on the other side of Sparatus' desk  _without_  invitation. "If this is the case, we're going to need every last damn unit we have to fight the upcoming war. The Dissension is a very real problem, I don't deny that, but they are a problem that can be handled more efficiently and with less casualties by Blackwatch. What I understand,  _sir_ , is you are still thinking like a Councilor—which you are no longer. Wipe The Dissension off the board, do it fast, and do it discreetly. To hell with what the rest of the galaxy thinks."

Sparatus flicked his mandibles, growing more annoyed with the general with every word to come out of his mouth. "You have no understanding of politics or diplomacy, Victus. If we want to keep the peace with humans and be  _able_  to focus on the reapers when they arrive, then the galaxy needs to see the Hierarchy taking charge to end The Dissension. So long as we act in the public eye, the humans remain content enough to not take matters into their own hands, and it gives the Council the room  _they_  need to prepare  _everyone_  for the reapers."

Adrien chuffed, his shoulders and chest heaving with mock laughter. "You mean it gives them the room they need to continue struggling to maintain their lies to everyone else in the face of mounting evidence to the contrary."

Sparatus grunted, he couldn't really deny the fact the Council was swiftly running out of time before the galaxy stopped listening. He'd said as much to the Council when he resigned, said as much to his replacement. Anderson, of course, agreed, but the oaf would agree with anything that painted humanity as valiant in the face of a threat. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a sigh, mandibles flaring. "Any word on the krogan?"

Adrien shifted, leaning to the side to prop his elbow on the arm of his chair. "The latest reports show Urdnot Wrex has managed to bring in all but the Gatatog and Weyrloc clans." Adrien rested his chin on his palm, one finger curling around to rest above his upper mouth plates. "He's in talks with the new leader of Gatatog, Krunlot, but it's too early to tell which way it will swing." His mandibles flicked with amusement. "Several of the members of Gatatog are still upset Shepard and her tank-bred killed their former leader after his attempts to sabotage the tank-bred's Rite of Passage."

"Grunt," Sparatus said. "His name is Urdnot Grunt."

Adrien flicked his mandibles and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "There's been reports of several clans having sworn themselves to aid Shepard against the reapers." He sighed, shifting his weight to the other arm of the chair. "The krogan  _are_  preparing for the war."

Sparatus nodded. "Good. Spirits help me, but we're going to need them."

* * *

Sparatus leaned his weight on his cane, watching the interrogation through the glass. The turian on the other side of the window was the third so far that day. He'd only been in the chair for a half hour, and already he'd given them twelve new names. In the last week alone, they'd arrested thirty-two men and women associated with The Dissension. The rhetoric Sparatus heard them spewing went well beyond insanity; he began to wonder if what he saw in some of the members of The Dissension might be the same reaper indoctrination Saren fell victim to.

"You won't stop us," the turian under interrogation, Temius Candilin, said. "The humans  _must_ pay for what they've done."

"And what is it you think the humans have done?" Lieutenant Sanctius leaned back in his chair, resting one foot atop the other knee.

Candilin scoffed, mandibles flicking with agitation as he looked away.

Sanctius let out a weary sigh, tapping a talon against the metal table. "Answer the question."

"We were to be the firsts," Candilin said before snarling, "but then the humans came."

"The firsts?" Sanctius lifted a brow ridge. "The firsts for what?"

"The first to ascend, to meet our destiny!" Candilin tugged at the manacles keeping him shackled to the table. "But now, thanks to  _Commander Shepard_ , we've fallen from favor."

Sparatus' veins filled with ice water.

_Spirits, it is indoctrination._

Turning on his heel, he made his way from the viewing room and used his cane to tap on the door to the interrogation room. The door slid open and Sanctius raised his brow plates, stepping aside to clear the way for Sparatus. Cane clicking across the tiled floor with each step, Sparatus made his way to stand in front of Candilin.

The turian glared at Sparatus, hate filling his eyes. "You're a traitor to your people."

"Where's the reaper artifact?" Sparatus shifted his weight to stand a little straighter despite the twinge of pain running down his legs.

The scent of Sanctius' sudden tension filled the air, and he moved up next to Sparatus. "Sir?"

"This man is indoctrinated, Lieutenant." Sparatus didn't bother to take his gaze off of Candilin. "Where is the artifact? Is it on Palaven?"

Candilin's mandibles flared. "You can't stop this. They  _are_ coming."

Sparatus turned, headed back for the door. "Lieutenant, I want you to find out where the artifact is that Candilin was exposed to. I need to call Primarch Fedorian."

* * *

"You're certain about this?" Fedorian closed his eyes, rubbing a thumb and finger over his lids. It was the third time they talked in as many days, and each conversation just seemed to age Fedorian another another few years. "We destroyed Temple Palaven to prevent a bioweapon emergency decades ago."

"Yes, and who issued the order?" Sparatus lifted a brow plate when the primarch met his gaze again.

Fedorain flared his mandibles. "Saren Arterius. Spirits."

"We're still piecing together the story, but I believe the 'bioweapon' Saren mentioned  _was_  a reaper artifact. After he became indoctrinated himself, he began excavating the temple's ruins in secret. Whatever was in the temple, it seems Saren didn't believe the Hierarchy managed to completely destroy it with the orbital attacks." Sparatus fluttered his mandibles, shifting his weight. "Which means it must've been more powerful than the one Shepard destroyed on Fehl Prime. Well, or at least built more sturdily."

"Even if it was destroyed, who's to say the remains aren't still just as dangerous?" Fedorian tapped his talons on his desk. "Alright, I'm going to have the area quartered off and quarantined. Let's hope the shielding we have is sufficient." He reached out as if about to disconnect the call but stopped, meeting Sparatus' gaze once more. "This information doesn't leave the Hierarchy until I know for certain what we're dealing with, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Sparatus nodded, and the screen went black.

* * *

"Calling to check up on me again, Tevos?" Sparatus asked as he answered the call.

She smiled, and as much as he hated to admit it, he missed seeing that same smile in person. Missed seeing  _her_. She'd softened him over the years, left him a shell of the turian he was when he joined the Council. Twenty years he served, and fifteen of those years were spent alongside her as something more than colleagues, late nights together 'working' in his office or hers, days off and vacations spent hiding away together from prying eyes. Oh how they struggled to keep their relationship a secret for the sake of appearing impartial. If Valern learned of his intimate relationship with Tevos, the salarian councilor would call every ruling they made into question. Spirits knew Anderson would, too, and the annoying human ambassador, Udina, would be right there beside him throwing one of his endless tantrums.

"I wouldn't need to call to check on you if I trusted you to take care of yourself." She raised a brow ridge, her smile shifting into the private one she reserved for him and him alone. "How are you, Sparatus? Are you following the doctor's orders?"

He fluttered his mandibles, turning enough in his chair to stretch his aching legs out a little to the side. "Stop worrying, Tevos." He let out a soft purr, smiling at her. "I'm fine, and I'll see you soon. I've already booked passage to the Citadel for the day after tomorrow."

She let out a soft sigh. "Goddess, I miss you. Being on the Council has become unbearable without you."

He flicked a mandible. "Is Quentius not working out?"

"Oh no, he's fine, I suppose." She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "I just got so used to dealing with a stubborn old turian with a little more backbone."

He chuffed, tracing the edge of his desk with his talon. "I seem to remember a time when my stubborness drove you crazy." He chuckled. "The first disagreement we got into, what was it over? Human expansion in the Skyllian Verge? Anyway, I felt so sure you were seconds away from ripping me off my feet with a Singularity."

"Mmm, actually, I was thinking of using a Warp," she said, lifting a brow.

He hissed, shifting it into a laugh. "I'm glad we found a more pleasant way to  _solve_ our disputes."

She grinned. "So am I. In fact, now that you're not on the Council anymore, I think it's safe to tell you I may have started a few arguments just so we could find creative ways to solve them."

Sparatus laughed, mandibles fluttering. "So did I."

* * *

"Councilor! What a pleasant surprise. Are you here to visit someone?" The asari behind the visitor station desk beamed up at him.

He flared his mandibles, fighting back the urge to ask her what the hell she was so cheerful about. "I'm not a councilor anymore."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm so sorry." Her cheeks shifted from baby blue to purple.

He chuffed, ignoring the apology, as if his resignation from the Council wasn't his choice. "I'd like to see Commander Shepard, I'm told she's a patient here."

"Ah … give me just one moment, I'll have to contact her guardian." The asari turned her attention to her console.

"Guardian? Is she really that bad?" Sparatus flared his mandibles, beginning to question the wisdom of going to The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary.

"I'm sorry, Coun—ah, Sparatus. I'm not allowed to divulge any details about any patient's status without express permission from either them or their guardian." She waved a hand at the chairs lining the wall. "If you'd like to take a seat, I'll contact Lieutenant Vega and let him know you're here."

Sparatus huffed. "Anderson made Lieutenant Vega her guardian?" He turned, taking slow steps towards the seating. "Of course he did."

He eased himself into one of the chairs, resting his cane against his knee and waited. There were a few people milling about the area, two asari talking quietly together over by a fountain, a salarian wearing a labcoat talking to two humans in hushed tones—the female crying, wiping her nose on a handkerchief—and two other humans sitting in chairs across from him, watching him with wary eyes. He'd hoped having his name cleared of charges and his work to apprehend those involved with The Dissension might earn him at least a little reprieve from the prying eyes, but he'd been mistaken. Still, no one dared to approach him as he made his way through the Citadel, and honestly, the extra distance everyone seemed to give him more than made up for the cross looks.

"Sparatus?" The asari called out, and he looked up to see her standing a few feet away. "Lieutenant Vega has approved your visitation request. I'll show you to her rooms, if you're ready?"

Bracing his cane on the floor, he groaned as he pushed himself up. The asari moved to his side, reaching for him as if he were elderly and at risk of falling. His gaze snapped to her, and he shot his best 'don't you dare' glare at her, making her blanch and take a step back. He might not be exactly young anymore, and he might be recovering from significant injuries, but he was still able-bodied and of sound enough mind to take insult at the woman's attempts to coddle him. He'd had enough of Tevos trying to do that since he stepped foot back on the Citadel.

He followed the asari attendant down the hall, grumbling when she deliberately slowed her steps to accommodate him. Thankfully he didn't have to go very far, it looked like they gave Shepard one of the nicer rooms in the facility, no surprise there. She was technically still a Spectre, after all. The two Alliance guards stationed outside the door nodded to him, and the asari knocked, smiling at Sparatus before turning and walking away again.

A moment later the door slid open and Vega beckoned him inside. Sparatus nodded to the two guards before stepping over the threshold. Shepard sat on a couch at the far side of the room, watching him without expression.

"I uh, I should warn you, she doesn't have a lot of impulse control right now," Vega said, keeping his voice low as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

Sparatus flared his mandibles. "How so?"

"Ah … well, I needed to step out for a little while earlier, and she tried to leave. When the guards stepped in her way, she used her biotics to Throw one across the room. Broke his arm, had to call in a replacement." Vega shook his head. "She spent an hour crying her eyes out afterwards, just kept saying she's sorry."

_Spirits. I guess they can't exactly take her biotics away … or her hand to hand skills._

Sparatus straightened his spine, doing his best to hide his weaknesses; he was turian, after all. "Thanks for the warning." He pushed forward, making his way further into the room, telling himself the uncomfortable itch under his plates wasn't because Shepard's gaze tracked his movements like a predator. He stopped when he got to the first place to sit down and lowered himself into the chair. "Hello, Commander."

She blinked, watching him for long moments in utter silence before she simply said, "Sparatus."

He had the eerie feeling she meant it less as a greeting and more as a confirmation, as if she were merely identifying an object placed in front of her. Fluttering his mandibles, he fought back the urge to shift around in his seat, instead, forcing a smile on his face. "You came to see me while I was in the hospital, I thought it only fair I return the favor."

After another long stretch of silence, Vega said, "Yeah, she doesn't really talk much, but keep talking to her. Dr. Chakwas says it helps keep her oriented. She understands what you're saying just fine."

Sparatus glanced over his shoulder at the human marine taken up station behind him and gave Vega a sharp nod. Turning his attention back to Shepard, he said, "The list you gave Primarch Fedorian has been an immense help in tracking down members of The Dissension, including those we believe to be responsible for the attack at Tiberius Towers." He fluttered his mandibles when she didn't respond. "We've taken over two hundred into custody, and forty more were killed resisting arrest."

"The list had what? Five hundred names?" Vega asked, drawing Sparatus' attention.

Sparatus dipped his head in a nod. "Yes, and although we know their numbers are higher, we don't yet have any idea how many more there are." He hummed. "But the Shadow Broker, of all people, has been sending the primarch updated lists. Fedorian said Shepard made arrangements with the Broker before …."

Vega smirked, scratching at the side of his stubble covered face. "Yeah, you could say that."

Sparatus raised a brow plate.

The human shrugged. "She's Shepard, she makes things happen, especially when the odds are stacked against her. The Council threatened her with treason, blocked her access to Spectre resources, so she made some things happen, and now she's got access to the Shadow Broker's resources."

"She … she  _knows_  the Shadow Broker?" Sparatus' mandibles fell slack, eyes widening. Spirits, the things they could do with the Shadow Broker's resources ….

Vega held his hands out and shrugged with both shoulders. "Maybe. You'd have to ask her."

Sparatus knew the man was being evasive, knew more than he said; Sparatus smelled it on him. He wouldn't press, though, he held no authority over the human. Not anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to Shepard and flicked his mandibles. She still hadn't said anything more than his name, how was he supposed to ask her if she knew the Shadow Broker? She stared at him, blinking slowly every so often but otherwise remained motionless. It made his hide crawl.

"Shepard, do you know who the Shadow Broker is?" he asked, shifting uneasily beneath her gaze.

"Yes," she said, surprising him.

He hummed with excitement, pushing himself to the edge of his chair, leaning in a little closer to her. "Who? Who is the Shadow Broker?"

"No," she said.

Sparatus straightened his spine, holding her gaze, only half conscious of his tone shifting back to that of the councilor as he said, "Commander, if you have access to the Shadow Broker's resources—"

"No," she said more forcefully, brow furrowing.

Vega shifted a little behind him, clearing his throat, and when Sparatus looked up at the marine, he gave Sparatus a tight shake of his head. Remembering what the lieutenant said about Shepard using her biotics against one of her guards, Sparatus sucked in a shallow breath and sat back in the chair again. His mandibles flicked with agitation, and he tapped a talon against his cane, reminding himself for the second time in a matter of seconds that he'd left the Council and held no authority over either of the humans present. He'd come as a courtesy, to show Shepard the same respect she'd shown him, and to update her on The Dissension since she'd been so useful in the entire ordeal. Spirits, she sided with him publicly and then saved his life, the least he could do was respect her wishes, at least while she still worked to recover from the loss of so many.

He sighed, relaxing into his chair and decided to change the topic. "We've located Spectre Protalus … well, the Shadow Broker located her. He refused to tell us where exactly she is, but he did agree to pass on a message from the primarch. Fedorian spoke to the Council on Protalus' behalf, and they've agreed to allow her to continue her work, ferreting out other members. They're not letting it be known publicly, of course."

She didn't respond, just sat there, passively watching him once again.

"I spoke to Anderson earlier today. He said you're making progress, and he expects you to pull through this." He flared his mandibles. "He also said there's no way you'd let anyone else lead the fight against the reapers."

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. "You don't believe the reapers are real."

Sparatus cocked his head to the side, confused. "I do, Shepard. We talked about this several times, when you first came back to the Citadel after Cerberus …." His mandibles stilled, and he glanced back at Vega again only to have the man shrug. "Has her memory been affected, too?"

"The Council never believes us until it's too late," Shepard said, a familiar outrage seeping into her tone, drawing his attention back to her.

Unease swept over him, mandibles flaring as he tilted his head to look at her. She stood up, the movement abrupt enough to make him jump a little, and Vega took a step closer. Her gaze shifted to the lieutenant and then back to Sparatus before she turned, walking over to a shelf where she picked up a hat.

"The reapers are coming, and Palaven will burn," she said, barely above a whisper, quiet enough he doubted Vega heard her at all. "We will unite the galaxy, bring an end to all of your petty squabbling, and then, just like a thousand times before, we will die." She ran her fingers over the SR-2 emblazoned on the hat, tears welling up in her eyes. "When we wake up again, everyone we've lost this time will be alive again. We can start over."

_What in the world …? What is she talking about? Anderson is truly insane if he thinks for even a minute she's going to be fit to lead this war._

She turned, looking dead at Sparatus, and with her voice still feather soft, she said, "We think it's listening to us."

"Hey, Ídola, we can't hear you with you whispering from over there." Vega bobbed his head when Sparatus glanced at him. "Well,  _I_ can't." The man took a few steps closer to Shepard, putting himself partially in front of Sparatus. "Sparatus isn't on the Council anymore, remember? The Dissension went after him while we were at Anderson's apartment. You and Garrus found Sparatus upstairs, in his apartment, trapped under … what was it?" He glanced at Sparatus.

Sparatus frowned, refusing to acknowledge the embarrassment he felt over having his choice of home décor nearly be the thing to end his life. "A model of one of Palaven's moons, Menae." He flicked his mandibles, understanding what the marine intended, even if he didn't understand why it was necessary. He turned his attention back to Shepard and added, "You came to visit me in the hospital after that, and I told you I planned to retire. I moved back to Palaven, where I've been working to prepare the turians for the reapers and hunt down The Dissension."

Confusion seemed to pull at her for a couple of seconds, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. "The Dissension," she said, putting the hat back on the shelf. "We remember."

_Spirits what happened to her? Why does she keep calling herself 'we'? What 'it'? What does she think is listening to us? A reaper? Could this have something to do with whatever the prothean beacons did to her?_

The whole thing was more than he signed on for. He expected to find her depressed, maybe refusing to get out of bed and eat, hell even suicidal. He'd heard about humans doing those things while they were grieving, and she had plenty of reasons to grieve. He certainly  _did not_  expect her to be rambling nonsense and prophesying about Palaven burning. He needed to tell Tevos how serious Shepard's condition really was, obviously Anderson had been misleading the Council.

Pushing himself up from the chair with a groan, he glanced at Vega. "I should get going. I'm scheduled to go back to Palaven in three hours, and I have a couple of stops I need to make before I board the ship."

"Sparatus," Shepard said, and he turned back to her, but she wasn't looking at him, gaze returned to the hat on the shelf. "The galaxy needs to work together if you want to survive what's coming. The sooner that starts, the better. If you're finally listening … tell everyone. Tell them all. The reapers will be here soon."

He fluttered his mandibles, glancing back to Vega before returning his gaze to her. "I'm listening, Shepard, and so is the Council. I have to go now … take care of yourself." He turned, making his way back to the door when she didn't say anything else or even look at him again.

Vega followed him, stepping out into the hall before saying, "She's right, you know? We're all going to have to work together on this. It can't just be the turians doing their thing while the humans, asari, and everyone else does something different. You're not on the Council anymore, but you still have pull. Use it."

Sparatus shifted his mandibles in tight against his jaws, annoyed by the human's audacity but hearing the truth in his words nonetheless. He gave the lieutenant a curt nod. "I'll take it into consideration. Good day, Lieutenant."

* * *

Tevos stood up from her desk when he walked into her office. Smiling, she met him halfway into the room, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I didn't expect to see you again before you left for Palaven."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "I went to see Shepard."

"Oh?" She pulled back to meet his gaze.

"We need to talk …." He waved his hand at the chair, and Tevos lifted her brow. "Let an old man sit down."

She chuckled, dropping her arms and returning to the chair behind her desk. Sitting down, she watched him as he made his way to the seat across from her. "And how is Shepard?"

Sparatus eased himself down and rested his cane against his hip. "Not nearly as well as Anderson has led you to believe."

"How so?" Tevos leaned forward, folding her arms on her desk.

"She's … it's not really easy to explain." Her fluttered his mandibles while he thought. "She seems very confused, and she needed to be reminded of things … like the fact I'm not on the Council anymore, and we believe her about the reapers." He flicked his mandible and dipped his brow plates. "She kept calling herself 'we' and said something about 'it listening to us.'"

"It? What is she talking about?" Confusion filled Tevos' eyes, leaving Sparatus feeling at least a little less lost and alone.

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. A reaper, maybe?"

"Goddess." Tevos lifted a hand to her mouth, delicate, slender fingers covering her lips. "Do you think she's indoctrinated?"

The thought hadn't really occurred to him, but he supposed it was a possibility. "I don't know … I had thought it was a side effect from the prothean beacons, maybe even something the collectors did to her, but you might be right. I  _do_  know she's in no condition to be leading the war, and I highly doubt she will be any time soon."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "That is unfortunate. Still, she is only one woman. It's not as if our victory hinges on whether or not she's fit to fight."

Sparatus wasn't sure why, and he'd never say it outloud, but his gut told him Shepard played a more pivotal role in things to come than anyone wanted to admit. Spirits, the woman's ancestors sent her back from the dead to fight the reapers. After a moment of silence, Tevos stood, a mischievous smile on her face as she rounded the desk again, her movements slow and seductive as she worked at the buttons on her dress.

"Was that all, or did you want to keep talking about Shepard?" She arched her brow, letting the material slip down off her shoulders, exposing her collar bone.

He flared his mandibles, holding his hand out to her and pulled her to him when she slid her hand into his. "Shepard who?"

Tevos chuckled, reaching back to activate her intercom system. "Selene? Hold all my calls, I don't want to be disturbed."

Reaching up, he slid his hand down along her arm, tugging her dress down further, only distantly aware of Selene's reply. The dress hit the floor in a puddle at her feet, and Tevos stepped out of it, taking his hand in hers to urge him back to his feet. He suppressed a grumble as he stood and leaned over her, pulling the scents of Thessian oceans into his nostrils, the particular smell never leaving her skin no matter how much time she spent away from her home. He settled his hands on her hips and backed her towards the desk.

She smiled and began working at the clasps on his tunic. He hummed, feeling her soft skin slide over his plate and hide as he tugged his gloves off, tossing them on the desk. His legs ached, but he could ignore it for the time being; he'd be damned if he let it get in the way of giving her a proper goodbye. She pushed his tunic off, and it fell to the floor. His plates were already parting when she reached for the clasps of his trousers.

…  _and then, just like a thousand times before, we will die._

Spartaus froze, mandibles pulling in against his face as he fought to banish Shepard's voice from his mind. He closed his eyes, lowering his face to the crook of Tevos' neck again, breathing in her scent and using it to wash away the tension, like talons prying away at his plates. Small, gentle fingers kneaded at the hide beneath his crest, pulling a purr from him. He nipped at her delicate skin, and she tugged open his trousers, pushing them down off of his hips before her free hand moved to coax him further out of his plates.

"I hope you're not still thinking about  _Shepard_ ," Tevos whispered in his ear, her hand wrapping around him as he slid completely free.


	4. Tali

**Tali**

Tali stood, arms crossed loosely in front of her, weight resting on one hip as she leaned against the port observation window. Thoughts bouncing back and forth between Shepard, Rannoch, and the Illusive Man, she let out a low growl of frustration. Her best friend—no, Shepard meant more to Tali than just a friend, more like a  _sister_ —was being kept locked away in a hospital designed especially for the mentally ill—something Tali didn't entirely understand—and there Tali was, still aboard Shepard's ship headed to the human homeworld. It didn't seem at all right.

Tali remembered when they went to the Luna base to shut down the Alliance's rouge VI—which turned out to be EDI. Talk about awkward. She remembered how proud Shepard sounded when she asked Tali what she thought about the gorgeous planet. Granted, Shepard and Ashley also sounded disappointed in humanity when they talked about the terrible things humans did, but Earth looked so peaceful from the moon's surface. Even if Shepard came from the human colony on Mindoir, Earth  _was_  her homeworld. The  _human_ homeworld. Tali shouldn't be going to Earth without Shepard. Not when she helped the quarians get back to Rannoch.

Rannoch! Keelah, Shepard found a way to  _give_  her people back their homeworld! She'd dreamed of a house of her own on Rannoch all of her life, but she never expected to have the opportunity without bloodshed and war. Maybe, with Rannoch being reestablished, the Admiralty Board would allow her father to return. Sure, he'd still have to pay for his crimes, but he could do it from  _home_  and not in exile.

_Home._

The thought pulled at Tali, made her heart sing with an impossible mix of joy and sorrow. Her people had a home again, but in a few months time, the reapers would arrive, and they'd defile the sacred grounds of Rannoch. For the first time since the Geth War, quarian blood would be spilled on Rannoch. Lives would be sacrificed fighting to defend the home they waited so long for, only the reapers wouldn't just chase them from the Perseus Veil.

She couldn't go home yet, though. Not until the Illusive Man joined his ancestors—if they'd even take the bosh'tet. A part of Tali wanted to not hate the disgusting human, after all, he'd returned Shepard to her, but … after everything the man did—he even attacked the Migrant Fleet!—and everything Shepard said he'd do in the days to come, Tali couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but a bitter rage towards the Illusive Man. She let out a heavy sigh followed by a surprised gasp as warm arms wrapped around her waist.

Kal chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You should get some rest, Tali. We'll be on Earth in a few hours."

"Do you really think he'll be there? Why would the Illusive Man go to Earth?" Tali wrapped her arms around Kal's, lacing her fingers through his. Keelah, she loved him. She couldn't imagine any reality where she wouldn't be with Kal, no matter what Shepard said. "It seems stupid, he's more likely to get caught by the Alliance on Earth, isn't he? Especially with the Alliance on high alert after the collector attack. How does Miranda even expect to land a Cerberus ship on Earth without Shepard aboard?"

Kal chuckled again, tugging at her, urging her back to the bed. "Those are all very good questions, but unfortunately, I don't have the answers, ma'am."

Tali snorted, slapping his shoulder. "I told you not to call me that."

"Mhmm." Kal pulled her into his embrace, hands running down the length of her waist and hips, sparking a hunger inside of her. He leaned in, pressing the side of his mask against her head, voice low and sultry in the way he  _knew_  drove her crazy. "But we both know you like it when I do,  _ma'am_."

She giggled, slapping his shoulder again. "Bosh'tet."

He made a low, throaty hum, sliding his hands behind her to cup her ass. "Come back to bed. I miss you." He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck to keep from falling back and laughed. Pressing her mask against his, remembering the warmth of his lips on hers when they first saw each other's faces on Rannoch, she said, "You mean you miss the sounds I make when I let you have control over my nerve stimulator."

"Mmm that, too." He turned, carrying her back to the bed before laying her down, staying between her legs. "I'll give you control of mine if you promise to stay here after and get some sleep."

"Deal," Tali said with a smirk.

* * *

"Good morning, Tali, Kal. ETA to Earth, one hour." EDI's hologram lit up the room, and although Tali woke up about five minutes before, she didn't  _want_  to be awake, so she groaned.

Kal rolled over, sliding his arm around her waist, pressing his mask against the side of hers but answered the AI, "Thank you, EDI."

EDI didn't respond. In fact, she hadn't done a lot of interacting with the crew beyond what was expected of her since Joker's death and Shepard's 'mental breakdown', as everyone else kept calling it. Tali didn't understand  _exactly_  what kind of relationship EDI had with Joker, but it seemed almost like … almost like they were falling in love with each other. Tali asked Shepard about it once, but Shepard just smiled and told her not to 'jinx it'—whatever  _that_  meant. Either way, Tali couldn't deny the obvious: EDI grieved Joker's death and the—hopefully temporary—loss of Shepard; just as they all did.

Her omni-tool vibrated and she opened it, seeing it was Admiral Koris calling. Again. Sighing, she sat up and accepted the call. "Hello, Admiral." She suppressed a scoff, feeling Kal slink out of the bed behind her.

_Coward._

"Tali'Zorah." He nodded. "Has there been any word on Shepard's recovery?" At least the Admiral didn't waste any time getting to the point, but he'd already called five times since they took Shepard to the Citadel over two weeks ago.

She squirmed a little, not really sure whether or not Shepard would want her to tell the Admiral about Shepard's personal affairs, but she couldn't really deny the Admiral, either. "She's begun eating on her own and has started to talk a little, but James said she still mostly just sits there staring off into space."

"It sounds like she's making progress, though." He leaned back against a shuttle, giving her a view of several of the buildings being repaired on Rannoch. It looked like the geth were taking the idea of welcoming the quarians back to their homeworld very seriously, they were speeding through the reconstruction incredibly fast. "I'll be making a trip to the Citadel in a couple of weeks. Are they allowing her visitors?"

Tali raised her brow, working hard to keep her tone level when she said, "The Alliance put James in charge of who gets to see her."

_Is he seriously going to go visit Shepard in the hospital? Keelah._

"James … the human lieutenant?" Admiral Koris scoffed when Tali nodded. "They put her subordinate in charge?" He scoffed again. "Oh, don't narrow your eyes at me, Tali'Zorah. I don't have anything against the lieutenant, he seemed pleasant enough. I'm just surprised, is all."

She lifted her shoulder. "Shepard trusts Councilor Anderson, and he made the decision. She trusts James, too. I think he's a good choice."

He hummed, the sound somewhere between thoughtful and derisive—as only Admiral Koris could make a hum sound. "Why not one of her two lovers? The turian, Garrus Vakarian, or the other, what's his name? The drell?"

"Thane," Tali said, offering Thane the courtesy of not reminding the admiral of his last name.

"Yes, Thane. Why not Garrus or Thane?" He waved his hand. "Surely they are both skilled enough to keep her safe and take the job seriously. I assume it's the whole point of putting someone in place to act as a gatekeeper."

She sighed, annoyed at having to deal with what she came to think of as the admiral's crush on Shepard so early in the morning. "Because they aren't in the Alliance, Admiral."

_Obviously._

"Yes, of course." He nodded but glanced off to the side, seeming distracted for a moment. "Well, I suppose I'll speak to the lieutenant. Do you have his contact information? I'd like to be able to update Shepard on the progress here, even if she isn't … receptive."

"Oh, uh, sure." Tali ran her fingers over her omni-tool's screen, shifting her view of the admiral so she could access her contacts list. "I'll send you his information now." She hoped James wouldn't mind, but she wasn't going to take the time to ask him and risk him saying no. If it kept the admiral from calling her every few days, she'd willingly risk annoying James.

"Thank you, Tali'Zorah." Admiral Koris pushed away from the skycar. "I do hope you'll be joining us soon. Vast changes have already been made in your absence. Soon, we'll begin moving people into houses and off the ships."

"I'm really excited to see it all." She smiled as a maskless quarian walked past the admiral. "We'll be returning to Rannoch as soon as we can, we've been having some difficulties locating the person we're looking for."

"Mmm, yes. The Illusive Man, so I've been told. Well it's about time someone take care of the nuisance!" He turned his head again when someone called out to him, holding out a hand to tell whomever he'd be just a minute. "Regretfully, I must go. There is so much work here for me to stay on top of. Keelah se'lai, Tali'Zorah."

"Keelah se'lai, Admiral." Tali closed her omni-tool, letting out a relieved sigh. She turned to look at Kal who'd stayed in the corner of the room, undoubtedly avoiding the admiral's sights. She narrowed her gaze at him and said, "Traitor."

Kal laughed, pulling a grin from Tali. He shook his head and said, "You weren't in any danger."

"Just of him talking me back to sleep." She hummed and cocked her head to the side. "It's kind of weird, still saying keelah se'lai, isn't it? I mean, we've not only  _seen_  the homeworld but we're in the process of  _reinhabiting_  Rannoch."

* * *

"You've been cleared to land, Ms. Lawson." Councilor Anderson nodded his head on the vid screen created by EDI in the comm room. "An Alliance strike team has been assigned to provide you assistance. They'll work cooperatively with the  _Normandy_  crew so long as you act within Earth and Council laws. This wasn't easy to pull off without Shepard being with you, but the fact you helped to rescue those taken by the collectors and destroyed the base has won you a few favors. Given Cerberus' history and the list of crimes brought against the Illusive Man with the information Shepard provided me with … the Alliance has approved a 'kill on sight' order. I don't think I need to tell you how rare this is."

"Fuck yeah." Jack smirked, crossing her arms.

Miranda shot Jack a chastising look, earning her a snort from the other woman, before she turned her attention back to the councilor. "Thank you, Councilor Anderson," Miranda said, pushing away from the table.

Tali felt pretty sure Councilor Anderson struggled to not laugh at Jack. The corner of his lip twitched, and he swallowed before clearing his throat a little. He looked back at Miranda and nodded before the call ended, the screen replaced by EDI's hologram. Tali wondered if he visited Shepard often, since he lived on the Citadel. He meant a lot to Shepard, maybe seeing him would help her.

_Something has to._

"I guess he just answered one of your questions," Kal said, voice just loud enough for Tali to hear as he tucked his hands behind his back.

"EDI, please tell Hanshaw to take us down." Miranda glanced around the room, not quite meeting anyone's gaze. "And pull up the blueprints for Cord-Hislop Aerospace."

"Right away, Miranda," EDI said before her hologram shifted.

A small compound filled the area above the table, showing several buildings, the leading structure at least five stories tall. The other buildings were shorter, but wider, sprawling out and taking up a lot of ground. Miranda reached out, pulling the tall building into view, and the image changed, showing the blueprints for the building. Tali moved a little closer to the image, Kal right behind her, and leaned against the table, waiting to see how Miranda decided to handle the mission.

"With the information Shepard recorded with EDI and the information our new Shadow Broker dug up, I was able to learn a little more about the Illusive Man. His real name is Jack Harper."

"His name is Jack, too?" Lia asked, looking between Miranda and Jack. "Well that's not awkward."

Tali stifled a laugh. It  _was_ a little funny in a sad, ironic sort of way, but she didn't dare let her amusement show through with Jack standing just a few feet away. The last thing anyone on the  _Normandy_  needed was for Jack to get upset without either Shepard or Garrus around to calm her down.

Jack snorted, crossing her arms over her abdomen. "Doesn't matter what the fuck his name is, he's a dead man either way."

Miranda continued on as if she'd never been interrupted. "He's a former mercenary with a history in the First Contact War, serving under General Williams on Shanxi. Cerberus was his response to the things he saw during and after the war, his reaction to encountering alien life. He later founded Cord-Hislop Aerospace, and he used the business as a cover for early Cerberus activities."

"Get to the point, Barbie," Jack said, rolling her eyes. "Why do you think he's there, and how the fuck do you want us to get in there to kill him?"

Finding the Illusive Man probably meant more to Jack than anyone else on the  _Normandy_. When Tali learned Jack's history, it broke her heart. It explained so much about the woman's abrasive personality. No wonder Jack seemed to hate everyone and everything. Even with as bad as she felt for Jack, though, Tali really didn't see how Garrus tolerated being in a relationship with her.

Miranda sighed, the muscles in her jaw twitching. "Jack Harper was very close to two other mercenaries in his group, Ben Hislop and Eva Coré, as you can guess, the company is named after them."

"Still not hearing your point." Jack leaned against the table, lifting an eyebrow.

Tali had to fight back a giggle. Without the only two people on the ship who ever stood any chance of keeping Jack under control around anymore, she'd started to become increasingly antagonistic towards Miranda and everyone else wearing a Cerberus insignia on their clothes. In a way, it made Jack more appealing to Tali. Sure, Miranda wasn't  _entirely_ bad, and Shepard obviously trusted her … but even if she wasn't stupid enough to join Cerberus, her personality made Tali want to vomit.

"My point, Jack, is the Illusive Man has ties to this corporation and in some ways, it's a tie back to his old life. He's scared and on the run, it's likely he's returned to somewhere familiar and comforting. He knows we're looking for him, and with EDI unshackled, he knows this is the only place she's not going to have information on." Miranda stepped away from the table and started pacing. "I'm not saying it isn't a gamble, but we can't leave any stone unturned."

"Fine, whatever. So what's your plan?" Jack asked, crossing her arms again.

Jacob nodded, stepping forward when Miranda glanced at him. He took control of the blueprints, zooming in on the front door. "If Miranda's right and the Illusive Man is here, the main entrance and all other exits will probably be guarded." He shifted the image, zeroing in on a back door. "Chances are, if he's inside, he'll be in the lower levels. He's probably had them reinforced as well. This door opens up into a stairwell leading straight to the lower levels. It'll probably be guarded, but with the help of the Alliance strike team, we might be able to divert the guards to the main entrance. Either way, this is the most direct route and will leave us with less to deal with along the way. Still, I'd expect to have to fight getting in and back out again."

"We'll have to take shuttles to rendevouz with the strike team, since we have permission to be here, we have to follow Alliance standard docking procedures." Miranda let out a heavy sigh. "Which also means the Illusive Man will probably be warned the second we dock."

* * *

Tali opened the door to the AI Core, the room feeling even more distant and secluded without Dr. Chakwas filling up the space between Lia's hiding spot and the rest of the ship. Lia and Legion both turned to look at her, moving eerily in sync.

"Creator Zorah." Legion fluttered his optic plates.

"Hello, Legion." Tali stepped into the room, moving to sit on the built-in bench at the back of the core next to her friend. "Lia, EDI said you haven't left the AI core since last night besides for the meeting in the comm room. Are you feeling alright?"

Lia sighed, shoulders slumping. "I'm just worried about Shepard."

"Me, too." Tali leaned against Lia, bumping her arm against the younger quarian's. "But Shepard is strong. She'll pull through this, I know she will."

_She has to._

"Do you really think so?" Lia turned enough to look at Tali.

"Yeah, I do." Tali smiled, realizing for the first time she really did have faith in Shepard's ability to pull through anything.

"I hope you're right." Lia sighed, folding her hands in her lap. "So, do you think the Illusive Man is really here on Earth?"

Tali shrugged. "I guess there's really only one way for us to find out."

EDI's hologram sprung up and Legion shifted to face it, which Tali found odd, considering he of all … people on the ship understood the hologram wasn't  _actually_ EDI, just a visual representation of the other AI. Tali felt pretty sure they didn't even need to vocalize in order to speak to one another. Which still made her a little uneasy, even if she did learn to trust both Legion and EDI.

"Docking procedures are complete. Miranda would like for everyone to meet her in the hangar." EDI's hologram collapsed as soon as she finished speaking.

Lia slid down off the bench and laced her arm through Legion's, and the two of them headed toward the door. She stopped, looking back over her shoulder at Tali. "Are you coming?"

Tali nodded. "Yeah, I just want a minute to talk to EDI. I'll be right there."

"Oh. Okay," Lia said, tugging on Legion.

Legion started walking again, and the door to the AI core slid open.

 _Shepard's right. He is_ so  _her AI boyfriend._

Tali waited for them to leave and for the door to close behind them before turning her attention back to the hologram's access point. "EDI?"

The hologram sprang to life again. "Yes, Tali? Is there something I can do for you?"

"No," Tali said, slipping down from the bench to go stand closer to the hologram. She wrung her hands, and then, realizing what she was doing, she stopped and crossed her arms instead. "I just wanted to, you know, check up on you. You've been pretty quiet since—well since everything."

"Since Jeff died and Shepard left." EDI's voice softened, and Tali swore the hologram dimmed a little. "Yes, my positive feedback algorithms appear to be malfunctioning. I ran diagnostics, but all reports indicate I'm functioning at optimal capacity. Legion suggested we network and run a fresh diagnostic scan, but I have declined his offer at this time. If the changes in my behavioral heuristics are causing you and the rest of the crew undue distress, then I will reconsider his offer."

_Keelah._

"EDI … I don't think there's anything wrong with your programing." Tali reached out, putting a hand against the cool, metal wall next the hologram; EDI once said she received a sort of haptic feedback from sensors within the  _Normandy_ , so Tali hoped she took some comfort from the touch. "I think you're starting to experience emotion, and it sounds like you're grieving. You were close to Joker and Shepard, it's normal for you to feel this way. Well, normal for an organic to feel this way, but … you know what I mean."

EDI's hologram hovered above the access node, the lights motionless in the silence for a long minute. "If you are correct, and this is what emotions are like, I'm not sure I want them."

* * *

Tali took Kal's hand, threading her fingers through his as the shuttle made its way to Cord-Hislop Aerospace. The conversation with EDI left her more shaken than she'd have expected. She tried to explain to EDI not all emotions are bad, and even though she knew EDI understood on a fundamental level, she didn't think it changed EDI's mind at all. Tali wished Shepard was there, she'd have known exactly what to say to convince EDI the pain would pass and there were lots of other things in the galaxy able to bring her happiness. Tali felt a little afraid EDI might decide to ferret out the programing responsible for her emotional development and destroy it, and that'd be a very,  _very_ bad thing.

She glanced around the shuttle, discomforted by the uneasy silence filling the space. Without Shepard, there wasn't anything to tie the group together. Lia sat next to Legion, of course, engaged in quiet conversation with him, as if no one else existed. Jack sat slouched against the wall, arms crossed, and eyes closed. Grunt stared off into space, looking one part bored and one part pissed off. Miranda's attention seemed glued to her omni-tool, and Jacob's on his feet.

Tali shifted and cleared her throat. "So, what happens after we find the Illusive Man?"

Grunt's giant head swiveled to look at Tali. "We fill him full of holes and take his head to Shepard."

_Ew. But … Wrex would be proud._

"We are  _not_ taking his head to Shepard," Miranda said, glancing up from her omni-tool at Grunt. "The commander is recovering from serious emotional devastation after losing one of her best friends, she doesn't need to be retraumatized." She turned her attention to Tali. "To answer your question, once we've taken care of the Illusive Man, I'm going to return to Cronos Station. EDI seized control over his systems when we were there and issued a command to put all ongoing projects on hold until further notice. I need to sort through all of Cerberus' assets, figure out which projects should be continued and which terminated."

Tali let out a soft snort. "Do you actually think  _any_ of Cerberus' projects should be continued?"

"Not everything Cerberus does is as horrible as what you've seen, Tali." Miranda sat back, crossing one long leg over the other. "Cerberus brought Shepard back to life, and before the Lazarus Project, I worked on several entirely ethical projects which have proven to be beneficial for humanity."

"Yeah, like what?" Jack scoffed, eyes still closed.

Miranda glanced at Jack and sucked in a heavy breath. "I ran two successful medical trials—"

"How many people died?" Jack cracked an eye and leveled her gaze at Miranda.

Miranda huffed. "Twenty out of three hundred and fifty-two, but—"

"Uh huh," Jack said, closing her eye again.

" _But_ , they died because of their illnesses,  _not_ because of the trials." Miranda cocked her eyebrow, still staring at Jack. "Meaning the trials saved three hundred and thirty-two."

"What illnesses did they have?" Tali asked, wriggling in her seat with the uncomfortable shift of the atmosphere.

"I'm sorry, I can't say." Miranda shook her head. "Doing so could potentially divulge the protected health information of those involved in the trials."

Jack snorted. "Right."

Miranda rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Tali. "Anyway, the point is, some of the projects Cerberus has going on might do more harm than good to blindly shut down."

Tali considered what Miranda said as the silence surrounded them once again. It certainly helped her to understand a little better how some of the people who worked for Cerberus actually seemed like decent people. Like Yeoman Chambers. Tali really liked Kelly. She seemed sweet, but Tali never understood how the woman could possibly be involved in something as evil as Cerberus. And although Ken from engineering sometimes got on Tali's nerves, he really knew his stuff, and with Gabby there to tell him when he needed to shut up, it wasn't so bad. Though sometimes Tali thought Gabby really should back off of Ken some, she barely let the man speak two words when she was around. But they were good people. Maybe, with Miranda running things, there was hope for Cerberus after all.

* * *

Tali tightened her grip on her shotgun and glanced at Kal. He nodded to her, checking his heat sink. They all crowded in, gathered around the back door. They were waiting for the Alliance's signal; the strike team was going in the front. They'd already encountered Cerberus resistance. Their shuttles were attacked the second they crossed into the compound. The Alliance strike team showed up seconds later, helping them to break through Cerberus' defenses. If it turned out the Illusive Man wasn't inside, Tali would be truly surprised. They didn't encounter so much resistance anywhere else they looked, not even the Cronos Station.

Miranda tilted her head and brought her hand up to her comm. "Copy that." She turned and looked at Legion, nodding her head. "Get us inside, Legion."

He swung his head around and began interfacing with the lock. It took him longer than expected to break through the encryption, which Tali supposed really shouldn't be a surprise. It  _was_ Cerberus after all, and if after bringing Shepard back from the dead they couldn't handle properly encrypting a lock, well then Tali didn't want to live in the galaxy anymore. The door slid opened and Grunt shoved his way inside, assault rifle lowered and already firing.

Jack went in right behind him, biotics twisting and turning around her body. Legion followed her, and Lia moved in after him. Tali stepped in on Lia's flank, lowering her shotgun at the closest commando wearing Cerberus armor and squeezed the trigger. The blast hit him low, throwing off his center of gravity, sending him tumbling backwards down the stairs, crashing into several other troopers blocking their path.

Grunt pushed forward, claiming the ground Cerberus lost. Kal moved in, positioning himself at the bottom of the stairs leading up, the sharp bark of his assault rifle filling the air. Miranda's biotics ripped a commando off his feet, slamming him into the top of the stairwell before he crashed back down into his allies. The plan was for Tali, Kal, Legion, and Lia to hold their positions, covering their retreat and keeping more Cerberus troops from moving down the stairs after Miranda's team. The Alliance strike team would clear the ground floor, which should take the heat off of Tali and the others, before moving to the upper floors to secure the building and check for civilians. Hopefully it didn't blow up in their faces. Tali  _really_ wished Shepard was there.

The flow of Cerberus fighters coming at them from above slowed to a trickle, which hopefully meant the Alliance handled things up front. Miranda and the others had already pushed down to the next landing, only Jacob remained in sight, but Tali still heard the sounds of battle below. Legion scrambled the lock on the door leading from the stairs to the main floor, and for a few seconds, troops tried to hack their way through, but they stopped pretty quickly, probably to fight the Alliance. Everything was going good.

But then it wasn't.

A flashbang dropped down from the next floor, instantly blinding Tali despite her darkened mask and leaving an uncomfortable ringing in her ears. Kal barked an order, but she couldn't make out what he said. Something slammed into her chest, catching the left side of her ribcage, knocking her off her feet, and she hit the floor. A moment later, it felt like she caught on fire. Her lungs ached, and she couldn't draw in a breath. The ringing started to fade, the rushing sounds of an ocean filling her ears instead. It wasn't until Legion appeared over her, reaching down and wrapping his hand around her wrist before dragging her back behind the stairwell wall, did she realize the noise came from her suit's breach seals activating and flooding her system with Medi-gel and antibiotics.

"Tali!" Kal's panicked yell reached her over the sounds of gunfire, and she coughed.

"Creator Zorah, you have been shot. Please remain behind cover." Legion turned, lifting his assault rifle.

She groaned, sucking in a deep breath and pulled her shotgun into her lap. Glancing down at her chest, it surprised her to see only a small tear in her suit, and she realized—by some miracle—she'd only been hit with a Concussive Shot. Still, it probably bruised her ribs, if not broke a couple. Tears bit at her eyes, and she wished, for the hundredth time that day alone, Shepard was there.

_Keelah, Shepard. I need you._

She glanced around the edge of the wall, dragging herself back to her feet, and caught sight of a  _very_ feminine form … wielding a  _sword_? The woman spun and flipped across the landing, sword arching through the air and pushing Kal back. He kept firing, but the couple of shots that hit the agile target were deflected by her barriers. Kal was running out of room, and Legion and Lia were preoccupied. That left Tali.

She lifted her shotgun, waiting until the woman came to a stop, crouched low in front of Kal, and pulled her sword back, ready to run him through. Tali activated the Carnage ability Kal taught her and rounded the corner, ramming her shotgun right into the woman's helmet and pulled the trigger. The blast ripped right through the armor, leaving the sword-wielding maniac's head a flaming, pulpy mess. The woman collapsed, falling to the side.

"Bosh'tet," Tali said, kicking the sword away before lifting a foot to push the woman over to her back, just to be sure she was really dead.

Kal's arm wrapped around her, pulling her into his side. "Keelah, I love you."


	5. Thane

__

_Thane Krios commission by[squiggly_squid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid)_

**Thane**

Shepard came out of the bathroom carrying her hairbrush and handed it to Thane. He glanced down at it, confusion tugging his brow ridges up until she folded herself down on the floor at his feet. He chuckled, pushing himself to the edge of the chair, positioning his knees on either side of her shoulders. Turning the brush over in his hand, he adjusted his grip. He'd seen her do this herself at least a dozen times, seen other humans brush their own hair, as well, but he'd never done it for her. He gathered her hair into his other hand and started at the bottom—as he'd seen her do after her showers—running the brush through the still damp strands, watchful for tangles in her hair.

"How are you, siha?" he asked, wondering if it'd be a day she'd talk. It'd been a couple of days since he last saw her, and the last time he was there, she spent the majority of of their visit holding Joker's hat and staring out the window in silence.

"We're hungry," she said.

"I'm making you lunch right now, Ídola," James called from the kitchen area. "Thane, you hungry?"

Thane glanced over his shoulder to see James watching them as he dished food from a pan out on plates. "No, thank you."

"You sure? There's plenty." James lifted one of his eyebrows.

"I ate before I came. I appreciate the offer, though." Thane turned his attention back to Shepard's hair when she squirmed between his legs and huffed. He ran the brush through her hair, moving up inch by inch as he worked. "I spoke with Kolyat today. I regret now I didn't tell him sooner, but he now knows my heart belongs to you, siha."

She twisted, looking up at him and whispered, "The reapers will kill everyone on the Citadel when they move it to Earth's orbit. You should tell Kolyat to leave before they arrive."

Thane froze, the implications of her words clenching a fist around his heart. She'd told him before Kolyat stayed on the Citadel in her other lives, working with C-Sec to pay for his crimes of shooting Talid's bodyguard and nearly killing Talid himself. She was telling him if Kolyat stayed on the Citadel, he'd die.

Thane forced his lungs to fill with air and slowly brought the brush back to her hair when she turned around again. "Siha … Kolyat is on Kahje, remember? You went with me to take him there, we left him with his uncle. You shared wine with The Unwed, and then you and I drank tea at a café on the second level."

She remained quiet for a long moment before she nodded her head. "Kolyat's on Kahje, we remember."

James walked into the living room, carrying a plate in each hand. He sat them down on the coffee table and looked at Shepard. "You ready to eat, Ídola? I made stir fry."

"Lola," she said.

James shrugged. "Uh, okay. You ready to eat, Lola?"

Shepard gave him a shake of her head, pulling strands of her hair free from Thane's hand. "We're not hungry."

"A moment ago, you said you were," Thane said, finishing up her hair and setting the brush down on a table next to his chair. "James prepared you lunch, you should eat."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder again. "Jane wants to talk to you."

Thane's brow twitched, tilting his head to the side, and he saw James freeze halfway to sitting on the couch. If he wasn't mistaken, it was the first time Shepard acknowledged Jane since she returned from the collector base and found Joker had been killed in her absence. Dr. Chakwas hoped Shepard would not only confirm Jane remained intact, but give Jane the opportunity to speak. They all prayed the other woman might be able to provide deeper insight into Shepard's mental status.

"Siha," Thane said, brushing hair back out of her face, "you have control now over when Jane is allowed to come forward. Miranda put in a new implant to help regulate your brain activity and now Jane can only come forward if you choose for her to, remember?"

Thane held her gaze as she watched him in silence, but he saw James opening his omni-tool, undoubtedly sending Dr. Chakwas a message.

After a moment, Shepard's brow furrowed. "We remember, but we don't know how."

He wasn't really sure what to tell her, all he knew was she now possessed the capability to control Jane's access, and in an emergency, should she lose consciousness as she did in Tiberius Towers, Jane might assume control in order to protect her from harm.

"Jane says we need to go all the way back inside for her to come out." The statement, something which would've once caused terror to flit across her gaze, somehow left her without expression.

He stroked her cheek, savoring the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers. "Can you … can you do that? Go all the way back inside, so Jane can come out?"

Shepard closed her eyes and slumped over, but he darted forward to catch her as she fell against his thigh and started to slip to the floor. A moment later she opened her eyes again, appearing far more coherent than she had since it all began. She blinked, letting out a small squeak before, sucking in a deep breath and grinning.

"Jane?" He kept his arms around her as she steadied herself, helping her to her feet when she started to push up from the floor.

"Thank God it worked." She threw her arms around Thane's neck and pressed a loud kiss to his cheek, surprising him.

He chuckled pulling back from her, hands on her shoulders holding her at arm's length to look her over. "We weren't sure if you were …."

"Still here?" She arched an eyebrow, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. "Yep. You guys aren't getting rid of me so easily."

James laughed, standing up from the couch and moving around to Jane's side. "Hey, Lola, long time no see." He opened his arms to her when she moved to embrace him, and he hugged her tight enough to lift her off her feet for a few seconds, earning him a laugh in return.

"I don't know how long they'll let me stay here," she said when James put her back down, "so let me say what needs to be said before they pull me back inside."

Hearing even Jane refer to Shepard as 'they' created a new fissure in Thane's heart. Clearly, as he'd suspected, there something more happened within her than a simple mental health issue. He prayed to Arashu it turned out to beneficial in the end. He'd spent much time since he first met Shepard considering her circumstances, what it might mean. Of course, when they first met, he thought her simply insane or incredibly clever. When she first told him of her story, he naturally felt skeptical. As he came to believe her, came to know her … he began to anticipate a time when the delicate balance she kept between herself and the others would falter, and it'd all collapse in on her. The initial stage of the collapse, he believed, occured the first time Jane managed to take control. He only hoped the reforging, so to speak, gave her new strength as opposed to leaving her a twisted heap of slag.

Jane turned to the table, picking up the plate of food James sat there for Shepard and took a seat on the couch. She stuffed a forkful of what looked like a mixture of some grain, meat, and vegetables into her mouth and moaned, eyelids fluttering closed. She opened her eyes again and glanced up at James, talking around her mouthful of food, she said, "This is fantastic."

James laughed, picking up his own plate and sitting down next to her. "I'm glad you like it."

"Jane, what can you tell us?" Pushing the tails of his jacket out of the way, Thane retook his seat and rested his hands on his knees. As pleased as he felt for the opportunity to learn more about what his siha struggled with, Jane's history of erratic, violent behavior kept him perched on the edge of his chair, ready to subdue her should the need arise.

Jane swallowed and stuffed another bite into her mouth. "Dawn's not …  _just_  Dawn anymore. I don't really know how to explain it, but she absorbed a lot more of us when she broke down, and now it's like her thoughts aren't her own." She took a minute to chew and swallow. "All the others she's taken in are there with her now, a part of her, but different from how me and everyone else are. All of their memories, thoughts, emotions, wants, and needs … they're all a part of her." She turned to James and asked, "Do me a favor and grab me something to drink?"

"Sure, no hay problema." He put his plate down and went into the kitchen again.

She glanced at Thane. "When she's talking, when it seems like she's confused or forgetting something …."

"It's not Dawn speaking." He sucked in a slow, painful breath, fighting the urge to rub at the ache. He feared for his siha, feared the depth of the trials she must endure, and wished he could be her champion, take them on for her instead.

"It's not  _just_ Dawn speaking." Jane scooped up more stir fry and then stopped with her fork just in front of her mouth. "She's still there, just not a separate, unique entity anymore. They're all sort of starting to blend together."

_Arashu grant her the strength to survive._

"Are you saying she's like Legion now?" James came back carrying three bottles of water and handed one to Thane before giving another to Jane.

"Thank you," Thane said, setting the bottle down on the table next to Shepard's hairbrush.

"Yeah … I guess that's a pretty close comparison." Jane opened the bottle of water and took a heavy swallow. "But what comes out of her mouth and what she does isn't always a matter of consensus, sometimes it just seems to randomly come from one of the others, like … their thoughts happen a fraction of a second faster than the others, so they get control for a moment." She sat the bottle down on the table and resumed eating.

A knock on the door drew everyone's attention, and James put his plate down. He made his way to the door and opened it, letting Dr. Chakwas in. They spoke in hushed tones over by the door for a second before Dr. Chakwas looked up and smiled at Jane.

The doctor rushed over, taking James' seat on the couch. "Jane, hello dear. I need to run scans on the implant, now that Shepard's allowed you access. I need to be sure it's operating the way Miranda intended."

Jane stuffed more food in her mouth, smiling around her fork at the woman and nodded. Dr. Chakwas opened her omni-tool and began scanning.

* * *

Jane moved up to stand by Thane's side as James walked Dr. Chakwas out of the suite. Thane glanced at her, feeling her gaze on him. She smiled at him, and then surprised him by taking his hand in hers. He hesitated as she tugged at him, his thoughts and feelings torn and confused.

He'd told Jane once he thought she and the others were disconnected, and indeed he did, seeing them and Dawn as parts of a whole in need of a reunion. Yet their distinct personalities, hopes and dreams, the different ways they fostered relationships and even whom they fostered relationships with made Jane a very different person than the one he came to love. He loved Jane, too, in a way. Without her, Shepard wouldn't be the woman she was, wouldn't be  _his_ siha. He put his faith in the gods, trusted in their judgements and their will, but with as much faith as he carried within him, it clearly wasn't enough to stop his mortal mind from struggling to put everything into familiar terms.

He relented, letting her lead him over to the couch and sat down at her urging.

She sat down next to him, far closer than he anticipated. "Do you trust me?"

"I—I believe you have been making genuine efforts to repair the damage you have done." Her question shamed him, knowing he could not honestly say he trusted her, as much as he might wish to. It wasn't without reason, however, and he believed she understood his hesitancy.

She snorted softly. "Uh huh. I need you to extend your trust to me for just a few seconds, okay? There's something important I need to do."

Thane blinked, gaze searching her face for any sign of her intentions or deceit. "Very well."

She pulled one of her legs up onto the couch, pushing her knee into the cushion as she moved closer to him, and he froze, staying very, very still as she brought her face nearer to his. She raised a hand, her soft fingers pressing against his chin, turning his face away from her as she leaned in closer.

Lips all but brushing across his scales, she whispered in his ear, voice undoubtedly as soft as any human could make it. "The Intelligence, the AI controlling the reapers, is housed somewhere on the Citadel. We can't be sure, of course, but a startling thought has occurred to Dawn and the others …. What if it's monitoring us somehow? Watching, listening, reading electronic communications? Some of the things we've already talked about while visiting the Citadel, and some of the things they've said since all this happened …. There are things too important to  _not_ discuss, regardless, but we already know we have Harbinger's attention." She pulled away, sitting back on the couch to look at him, the trace of raw fear in her eyes testing his resolve.

If she proved correct, and the Intelligence actively monitored them, then the Citadel was quite possibly the most dangerous place for Shepard to be while in such a vulnerable state. Undoubtedly, there were hundreds if not thousands or more indoctrinated people on the Citadel. Perhaps even some working in The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary. The Intelligence may know about Jane and the others, know Shepard was something  _more_ than just a mere human. It may know she found a way to defeat the reapers.

"That is … a disturbing possibility." He reached out and covered her hand resting on her knee with his own, giving in the urge to offer her some expression of solidarity and comfort. "I will speak with Garrus, discreetly, we will look into this."

She turned her hand beneath his and squeezed his fingers. "Be careful." Letting go again, she gave him a sardonic smile. "Dawn will come after me next if anything happens to either one of you."

He chuckled, pulling his hand back to his lap. "You seemed to believe the others are happier now, joined with her in this way. You don't want that for yourself?"

"God, no." Jane shuddered. "They're losing their sense of self.  _Dawn's_ losing her sense of self. Besides, there's still hundreds of us left inside, someone has to keep them in check."

* * *

Thane waited for Garrus inside his small, open-floor, spartan apartment. Thane sent Garrus a message when he arrived and found the turian wasn't home, and thankfully, Garrus gave him permission to let himself in to wait. He paced the floors, stopping to look at a photograph of Shepard and Garrus aboard what must've been the old  _Normandy_. There were few other photographs, but only one other drew his interest. It was a picture of what looked like Garrus as a young man with his family—his mother and sister, at least. Garrus' father didn't appear in the photograph, which Thane didn't find surprising having learned Castis Vakarian also worked with C-Sec and spent the majority of his time on the Citadel while his wife and children remained on Palaven. Garrus never really spoke much about his mother and sister, at least not in Thane's presence, though he knew the family's matriarch developed Corpalis Syndrome.

The door slid open, and Thane turned to watch Garrus come inside. It pleased him to see Garrus moved more steadily than the last time he saw the turian. He'd even resumed wearing his armor. He spotted Thane instantly and flashed him a strained smile, mandibles fluttering.

"Give me a minute, I have to get this armor off, it's killing me," Garrus said as soon as the door closed behind him, and he moved to a locker next to the door.

"Of course." Thane moved closer, holding his hand out in offering. "Allow me to assist."

Garrus chuffed, an annoyed sound, but nodded his head nevertheless. "Alright."

Thane knelt before him, working to relieve him of his greaves while he worked on his breastplate. Together, they removed Garrus' armor in silence, stacking it in the locker. When the last piece was inside, Garrus closed the locker and turned to look at Thane, mandibles flaring before fluttering.

Thane tucked his hands behind his back. "I've just come from visiting Shepard."

"How is she? I plan on going here in a few hours." Garrus waved at the couch and started walking over. "I'm going to stop by one of the restaurants she likes and bring her dinner." He sat, humming. "I suppose I'll get James something, too."

Thane followed him, grateful for the offer, and took a seat. "Ah, when I left, Jane was still present."

"Jane?" Garrus asked, mandibles flaring wide. "Jane's in control?"

"Indeed." Thane dipped his head. "Shepard informed me that Jane wished to speak with me, and I reminded her she had control over when Jane could come forward. It took her a moment, but she figured out, with Jane's help, how to allow the transfer of control."

"That's good, I suppose. And Jane's okay? She's not …." Garrus trailed off, as if it frightened him to give voice to the hope filling his eyes.

Thane offered him an understanding smile. "She seems of sound mind, yes."

Garrus let out a heavy sigh. "Good. So, what did she tell you?"

Thane leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. "Shepard has … taken in a significant number of the others, and now they are … I suppose you might call it merging with her."

"Merging with her?" Garrus shifted on the couch to face Thane more fully, brow ridges pulled low. "What do you mean?"

"Shepard—Dawn—is no longer an individual separate from those she has absorbed. Jane described a blending of their psyches, their thoughts and emotions are no longer well defined as coming from an individual. It is why she has been using terms of plurality when speaking of herself."

"Spirits." Garrus rubbed his forehead. "Is this … how long will this last?"

"Dr. Chakwas doesn't know if it will be temporary or a permanent situation." Thane took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry, Garrus. This must be difficult for you to hear."

Garrus chuffed, pushing himself to his feet to pace the floor, throwing his hand out toward Thane in clear irritation. "It's  _not_ for you?"

"I … I have come to view the others as parts of a whole, Dawn as part of a whole. When I gave my heart to her, I gave it to all of her." Swallowing, he took a moment to order his thoughts, wary of how his views might impact Garrus. "It pains me to see her suffer, to see any of them suffer, but perhaps this will prove to be a positive thing, perhaps she is making herself whole once more. I suspect for you, however, it may feel more like losing her completely."

Garrus let out a derisive huff and shook his head, stopping to stare at Thane. "You think this is a  _good_ thing?"

Thane took a moment to answer, choosing his words carefully. "I pray it's a good thing."

Garrus huffed again, moving to a chair to sit down. "She's still in there. I'm not giving up on her. I'll find a way to help her, dig her back out."

"And if you can't?" Thane asked, keeping his voice soft.

Garrus let out a low, threatening growl.

"I don't ask to antagonize you, Garrus." Thane shook his head. "I've come to care about you, and I love Shepard. I wish for you both to be happy." He turned his palms up, holding them out in supplication, asking the man to be patient with him. "So I ask, what will you do if she is not able to be separated from the others ever again? Will you find a way to open your heart to who she is becoming, or will you turn away? I have no doubts she will continue to love you and want you to be a part of her life."

Garrus' shoulders slumped, head hanging, mandibles making a sort of gentle, helpless flutter. "I don't know, Thane. I already lost her once, and it about killed me. I just … I don't know."

Thane let Garrus' words hang, filling the air between them, weighing heavily on both their hearts for a long moment before he said, "Humans have a saying, tomorrow is promised to no one. I have spent years knowing I am dying. I can only pray you and she will have many, many years together after I have gone to the sea." He held up a hand, silencing the other man when he opened his mouth as if to speak. "She is not yet dead, Garrus, but tomorrow is promised to no one. You may lose her again, I hope this is not the case, but for now, she still draws breath, and so long as she still draws breath, no matter if she is one or one thousand, she will love you. Love her, Garrus."

Thane fell silent once more, letting the keen tearing through Garrus wrap its mournful hand around his soul. Garrus' struggle to fight back the emotion, to silence his grief, was obvious. Thane pushed himself to his feet, moving to stand next to the turian and settled a hand down on his shoulder, fully expecting Garrus to shove the hand aside, but he never did. Thane stayed there, offering Garrus his support the only way he knew how, until Garrus' keening subsided.

After a moment of silence, Thane said, "There is something else." He produced a piece of paper from his pocket—after the extreems Jane went to, whispering her fears into his ear, he thought it might be best to communicate her message to Garrus in a way he hoped to be more difficult for The Intelligence to pick up on. He'd stopped by one of the novelty stores on his way to Garrus' apartment and purchased a pen and actual paper, not wanting to risk even writing the message down on a datapad.

He passed the paper to Garrus, dipping his head at the folded note when Garrus gave him a confused look. Garrus opened the note, and almost immediately, he tensed, balling the paper up in his fist. Humming, he stood and crossed over to the small, open kitchen area and tore the note up before tossing it in the trash. Turning back around he met Thane's gaze, and it was the cold, serious look of a man who'd pulled his battle sleep around him once more.

Garrus flicked his mandibles. "If you're not busy tomorrow, I was thinking about making a run to see Grundan Krul. You should come with me."

Thane raised a brow ridge, obviously Garrus wished to convey something to him in private, away from the Citadel. He just wasn't sure whether or not Garrus truly meant to go all the way to Hagalaz. "Indeed?"

"Yeah, I have some things I need to run by him." Garrus fluttered his mandibles. "And I think we could both use a change of scenery for a day or two."

"Very well." Thane dipped his head. "If you wish, I will accompany you back to The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary this evening."

Garrus seemed to consider the offer for a moment before nodding. "I think she'd like that, to have us both there for a little while."

"Indeed." Thane smiled.

* * *

He shifted the bags in his hands and knocked on the door. Despite holding himself straight, it seemed clear Garrus suffered under the weight of his armor once more. Still, Thane understood his desire to wear the armor while outside of his home—the tension on the Citadel remained at a stand still, making it a dangerous place for any turian.

James opened the door, reaching for the bags Garrus held. "Dios, I'm glad you're here," he said, voice low. "She's getting irritable. She wants to leave and doesn't understand why she can't."

Thane stepped into the suite after Garrus, making sure the door shut behind him. "Jane has gone back inside?"

"Yeah," James said, glancing over his shoulder at Thane as he made his way towards the kitchen, "Ídola yanked her chain right after you left. It was kinda scary, she just dropped like a ton of bricks, nearly hit her head on the corner of the coffee table."

"Garrus," Shepard said, coming out of her bedroom. She made her way straight to him and took his hand in hers, looking up into his eyes. "We want to go." She tugged on his hand, as if she expected him to heed her request and lead her from the hospital—indeed, Thane supposed she did, after all, she was Commander Shepard, and Garrus her true second in command. "We need to leave the Citadel, there's things we need to do."

Garrus fluttered his mandibles. "Where do you want to go?"

Thane sat his bags down on the counter next to James and turned, tucking his hands behind his back to watch Garrus and Shepard.

She sighed, her brow furrowing. "Away from here," she said, voice pleading, on the verge of a whine. Tears welled up in her eyes. "We have to go."

Garrus hummed, lifting his free hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dawn. Anderson's the only one who can decide when you leave."

She let out a soft whimper and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his breastplate. "Anderson won't let us leave."

He put his arm around her, pulling her in closer. "I'm sorry." Bending a little, he pressed his mouth against the top of her head.

"Hey, Ídola, Garrus and Thane brought us dinner," James said without so much as glancing in their direction, unfortunate, because Thane felt certain James wouldn't have dared to interrupt the tender moment they shared. "You hungry?"

She looked up, and just like that, the emotions were gone from her face. She pulled away from Garrus without a second look, her gaze barely flicking over Thane as she passed by him to look into the bags.

Thane stepped aside, moving to Garrus and patting the deflated looking turian on the shoulder. "Come, I'll help you out of your armor."

"Hey, you can stash it in my room if you want." James finally turned to look at Garrus. "She's, uh, she's been throwing things around in her room."

"Thank you, James." Thane guided Garrus towards James' bedroom, closing the door behind them. "If you wished to speak with Jane, you might have luck asking Shepard to allow Jane to come back out once she's calmed down."

"Maybe." Garrus shirked off his breastplate after Thane finished with the seals.

Thane set the piece of armor on James' bed and started to reach for the next latch when he heard Shepard's frustrated yell and the sound of breaking glass. Both he and Garrus rushed for the door. When the door slid open, Thane stopped in his tracks, seeing Shepard curled in on herself, leaning against the wall crying while James nursed a gash in his forehead.

Thane glanced at Garrus and nodded his head towards Shepard. "I'll help James."

Garrus' mandibles fluttered, and he nodded, making his way to her.

"Where's the first aid kit?" Thane crossed the floor to James, looking over the cut stretching from just over his left eyebrow to his hairline, angled toward the back of his head, when James pulled the towel away from his face.

"There's one under the kitchen sink and one in the bathroom." James moved to sit down at the breakfast bar.

Thane went to retrieve the first aid kit and grabbed another clean towel off the stack next to the sink, wetting it under the faucet. He returned to James and opened the first aid kit, taking out the spray antiseptic, luckily whoever stocked the kit chose a brand which included a coagulant. Head wounds tended to bleed rather profusely. "Are you experiencing any symptoms of a concussion? Should I call Dr. Chakwas?"

"No, don't bother the doc." James pulled the towel away again, letting Thane spray the antiseptic over the wound. "Damn, she got me good."

Thane glanced over to where Garrus sat next to Shepard, his arm around her as she leaned into his side, face hidden against his chest. He kept his head down, talking softly to her. Thane turned his attention back to James and began cleaning the surrounding area of blood with the wet towel, giving the coagulant a chance to completely stem the flow. Setting the towel aside, he opened the Medi-gel and used one of the swabs in the kit to smear the substance over the cut little by little, as he used his other hand to pinch the skin closed to speed healing and reduce scarring. Once the Medi-gel set, Thane gathered up the supplies and returned them to the cabinet beneath the sink before washing his hands. James took the bloody towels and made his way to the bathroom.

When he turned back around, Thane saw Shepard moved into Garrus' lap, her face buried in the dip of his cowl. Thane smiled when Garrus met his gaze, and Garrus flicked a mandible in response. Thane found cleanser beneath the sink and used it to wipe down the countertop of the breakfast bar, before working on the trail of blood left across the floor, and cleaned up the broken glass.

James came back out of the bathroom, all traces of blood gone from his skin. The easy smile so common on the man's face disappeared, in its place, his lips were pressed into a tight line. He made his way back to the cartons of take out Garrus purchased on their way to The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary.

Thane went to help him, pulling plates down from the cabinet after washing his hands once more. "James … I will spend the night here if you need to take the night off. Perhaps Garrus would be willing to stay, too. You've been here non-stop, this must be wearing on you."

James let out a heavy sigh and pressed his palms into the counter, hanging his head. "I just hate seeing her like this, you know?"

"Indeed."

"I mean … I don't expect her to just snap back or whatever. Dios, I don't even care about this," Jame said, pointing at his freshly sealed injury. "She's just so frustrated right now, so lost. It makes me feel helpless."

"I believe your being here with her has helped her immensely, but you need to care for yourself, too." Thane turned to face the man. "Go. Eat first if you'd like, but then leave, even if just for a few hours. Relax, find something fun and entertaining to do."

James sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, okay. A few hours. I'll stick around and eat, make sure she knows I'm not angry with her before I head out."

"That's kind of you." Thane pulled the cartons over to him, making sure to keep Garrus' separate. "Why don't you go sit down, I'll handle this."

* * *

Thane washed and put away the dishes while Garrus and Shepard sat on the couch together watching an action vid. He dried his hands and wiped off the counter before draping the towel over the edge of the sink and made his way back to the living room area. Shepard glanced up, her gaze tracking him as he moved, and she smiled. Returning her smile, he sat down on her other side.

The movie came to an end, credits rolling over the screen, and Garrus leaned forward, picking up the remote and turning the vid screen off. He shifted on the couch to face Shepard, taking her hand in his. "Dawn … Shepard, do you think you can let me talk with Jane for a little while?"

"Okay." Shepard closed her eyes and slumped over, falling against Thane. A moment later she opened her eyes again and sat up, blinking as she glanced between Garrus and him. "Twice in one day? Careful guys, I might get used to this."

"Jane?" Garrus flared his mandibles.

"Hey, Garrus. It's good to see you." She offered him a grin and then glanced at Thane before turning her head back to look at Garrus. "I'm guessing Thane filled you in on everything already, so what's up? Not that I'm not delighted we're on speaking terms again."

Garrus chuffed a weak laugh and nodded. "We talked. We're going to go see Grundan Krul tomorrow, look into some things."

Jane nodded. "Good. Tell him I said hello."

Garrus chuckled. "I hope, besides for this other thing you talked to Thane about, you might have some insight. Something I can tell Grundan Krul to start looking into, hmmm, to get ready for the war."

Jane sat back against the couch and brought an ankle up to rest on her knee, threading her fingers together to rest over her abdomen. "Hmmm. Well, Ambassador Udina may have ties to Cerberus. If Anderson gives up his position on the Council to fight in the war, Udina stands to replace him. It'd probably be a good idea, even with Miranda poised to take over Cerberus, for Udina to not be allowed into such a position of power. God only knows who else he's got dealings with."

"I never liked Udina." Humming, Garrus nodded, and Jane snorted. "I'll have Grundan Krul look into him, see if there's something we can use to discredit him enough that the Council would never let him join. Maybe even make him lose his position as an ambassador."

"Good idea." Jane sucked on her teeth. "Dawn had some groups of krogan promise to back her when the reapers arrive, maybe you can touch base with Wrex, see where the krogan stand. Kirrahe and some of the STG also offered their support. You could have Grundan Krul reach out, see what progress they're making. If they won't talk to him, you may need to contact them yourself. Or ask Mordin."

"Not a problem." Garrus shrugged. "I'm sure we'll get something figured out. Anything else?"

"Admiral Daro'Xen made a targeting laser before out of geth tech, let's us sync up the entire Flotilla and the  _Normandy's_ weapons to hit whatever target the user paints—even from orbit. It'd be a significant help. Figure out if it's something she's still working on now they're resettling Rannoch, if not, take it to Legion. And see what we can find on what the other races are doing to prepare. Sparatus came by a few days ago, he's making headway on The Dissension, and he mentioned preparing the turians for war, but he didn't elaborate on it really."

"I've spoken with a few hanar diplomats," Thane said, drawing Jane's attention to him. "The hanar are upgrading Kahje's planetary defense systems and have a meeting scheduled with Anderson in a week to discuss how they can assist more directly. They've agreed to send drell task forces to the front lines—or wherever they can best serve—when the reapers arrive."

Jane reached over and patted his hand, leaving it on top of his. "Thank you." She glanced at Garrus before turning her gaze back to him. "Both of you. For taking on all of this while we're stuck in here."

"Of course, siha." Thane placed his free hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers.

Jane seemed taken aback, blinking her eyes rapidly for a moment. "You called me 'siha.'"

"Indeed. Does this bother you?" Thane lifted a brow ridge. "I was under the impression it is a term I often used with you."

She smiled. " _Bother_  me, no. Just surprised me a little."

Thane chuckled, letting go of her hand. "How else may we assist?"

"Hmm." Jane pursed her lips, pulling her hand back to lace her fingers over her abdomen once more. "Once Miranda is in place and Cerberus is under control, you can have Grundan Krul start looking for Javik on Eden Prime. Dawn gave EDI the rough location, if you contact her, she can pass it on to Grundan Krul. But make sure no one tries to open Javik's stasis pod, they'll risk killing him, and I'll be exceptionally pissed. I know how to get it open—most of us do." She turned a litte, her attention zeroing in on Garrus completely. "Garrus … when the reapers get here, you've got to get us out of this place, it doesn't matter what condition Dawn is in. We belong on the  _Normandy_  getting shit done, and I think Dawn and the others will do what needs to be done when things are put back into motion."

Garrus met Thane's gaze, and Thane dipped his head. Garrus hummed and nodded. "I don't think Anderson will have any problem with it, but if he does … we'll make sure you're released, one way or another."


	6. Jack

**Jack**

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, bringing on an euphoric rush, memories of narcotics flooding her system, Jack flared her biotics, using them to rip the door right off the retracting mechanism and flung it aside.

_Pathetic sonofabitch thinks he can hide? Nah, fuck that. His ass is mine._

She stepped through the door, feeling Grunt press in behind her, rushing her when she wanted to take her time. Savor the moment, savor the kill. She growled, snarling at him over her shoulder before turning her attention to the man standing behind a desk, back to her as he looked at a holographic screen flashing the words 'message sent'.

"I'm disappointed in you, Miranda." The Illusive Man turned around, taking a drag of his cigarette, smoke coiling up into the air around him.

Jack snorted, glancing over at the life-sized Barbie, makeup and hair no longer picture-perfect, blood smeared over her catsuit. She turned her attention back to the Illusive Man. "I'm pretty damn sure she doesn't really give a fuck what you think. So, how's this gonna go? You done running and hiding like a little bitch?"

"Ah. Subject Zero. I see your time with Shepard has done little to curb—"

Jack lashed out, using her biotics to pick up the desk and Pull it across the room, sending it crashing into the wall a few feet from the door. "Don't call me that."

"—your abrasive personality, or your aggression, I see," he continued, as if her display of power was nothing more than a minute nuisance. He turned his attention back to Miranda. "You brought the Alliance with you. Do you really believe they'll allow you to step in and fill my shoes? Come on, Miranda, I thought you were smarter than that. We both know as soon as I'm dead, they'll turn their strike team on you." He glanced at Jacob. "You, too."

"If you think you can talk your way out of this, you're sorely mistaken." Miranda leveled her pistol at the man, flaring with biotic energy.

The Illusive Man took a heavy drag of his cigarette and glanced up towards the ceiling behind the group. "Kill them, and then help the reinforcements take care of the Alliance."

Jack spun, pulling her biotics up around her just in time to see a crazy ass looking half-human half-robot man drop down from a balcony. "You." She remembered the motherfucker and his stupid ass sword.

She hit him with a Pull, but all it seemed to do was throw off his trajectory as he swung his sword around behind him, landing on the ground with a Nova blast as he slammed his fist into the tiles, shattering several of them. Glancing over her shoulder, Jack growled, seeing the Illusive Man heading for a side door. Her jaw clenched hard enough to ache, she looked at Kai Leng, wanting to kill his ass almost as much as the Illusive Man.  _Almost_. Turning on her heel, she chased after the Illusive Man. Barbie and the others would have to deal with Kai Leng on their own, no fucking way in hell was she letting Jack Fucking Harper get away.

* * *

Bloodied, bruised, but not broken—never again broken—she fought her way through wave after wave of Cerberus troops, surviving on biotics and pure rage. She didn't know where the hell they were all coming from, or where the fuck the Alliance strike team was, but she knew one thing for sure.

_The. Illusive. Man. Dies. Today._

Finally, she had him cornered. "Nowhere else to go? Fucking pussy." She lifted her lip in a snarl, feeling her energy flagging. It didn't matter, though. She had him. She fucking had him. But then, she felt a pinch in her neck, and the whole building turned upside down. The last thing she saw before her world went black was the Illusive Man staring down at her, impassive as he lit a cigarette.

* * *

Jack woke up, dazed and confused, restraints biting into her wrists, waist, and ankles. A sound to her left made her turn her head, and she nearly puked all over herself with the movement.

_The fuck …?_

The Illusive Man sat in a chair about eight feet away, lit cigarette in hand, smoke creating a thick haze in the cell. Growling, she pulled uselessly against the restraints. She reached for her biotics, finding … nothing. Shock took her like a punch to the gut, ice water to the face, leaving her terrified for the first time in a long, long time.

"Welcome home, Subject Zero." The Illusive Man stood, turning on his heel and crossed the floor to bang on a reinforced steel door, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty cell. The door opened, and the Illusive Man stepped out, stopping in the doorway to give orders to a man wearing a white lab coat, the Cerberus emblem standing out on the shoulder like a death omen. "Give her a couple of hours, then throw her in the pits. Let's see if she can channel her rage without her biotics."

Panic welled up inside of her, ripping the air right out of her lungs, suffocating her. She pulled at the restraints again, squirming, twisting her entire body as much as she could.

_No. No. No, no, no. Fuck!_

"Let me the fuck out of her you sorry, piece-of-shit sonofabitch!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, refusing to let despair take over. She  _would not_  go back into those pits. No fucking way in hell. She  _would not_  be Cerberus' fucking monkey toy again.

* * *

_Children …? They want me to fight children?_

"No." Jack's jaw snapped closed hard enough she thought her teeth might shatter as electricity coursed through her again. She fell to knees, fingertips digging into metal and concrete before folding under, knuckles scraping over the rough surface. The electricity stopped, leaving her gasping for breath, head hanging limply between her shoulders. She licked her lips, tasting blood in her mouth and smiled. "Bitch please, you can do better than that."

The next shock hit her twice as hard, making her head jerk back, muscles going rigid, on fire. Her entire body was on fire, her fucking brain was on fire, white hot, eyes rolling back in her head. It stopped and she collapsed, writhing on the ground, panting as she continued to twitch. The whimpers and sobs of the kids huddled together on the other side of the pit cutting through the haze. "No," she tried to say, but it just didn't come out right, her mouth and tongue refusing to cooperate. After a moment, she tried again, "Go to hell, you sonofabitch."

* * *

She paced the floor of her cell, telling herself she just needed to hold out until he came for her. Garrus would come for her.

_Will he, though? He's on the Citadel with Shepard. He'll never leave her to come help you. He loves her more. Always will._

"He'll come," she whispered, rubbing her hand absently over her arm, cringing at the feel of cloth covering her skin.

They'd stripped her, drugged her up and stripped her down, forcing her into a fucking black, white, and orange jumpsuit. At least the shit wasn't skintight leather like Miranda's. The first few days, she took it off and laid around the cell buck-ass naked. But they only drugged her up again and shoved the damn thing back on her. The next day, she used the edge of her bunk to help her tear through the fabric, ripping the top into strips and tying them around herself, a twisted mimic of her harness. That's when they started with the electrocution shit. At first it was just what looked like a cattle prod, but then one day she woke up with a migraine from hell, those motherfucker's knocked her out and put something inside her head.

_Garrus will come. Shit, Shepard would never forgive him if he didn't. But … what if … what if he doesn't even know what happened? What if Kai Leng killed Barbie and the rest? Nah, fuck that. He might've gotten one or two of them, but he didn't get them all. No fucking way. Not with Grunt there. But would they realize I'm still alive … do they know he kidnapped me? Would Barbie even bother to tell Garrus? Shit._

Tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling, she shook out her hands, fighting back the tears threatening to push their way out of her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slow, trying to find the spot inside of her where her biotic energy manifested for probably the thousandth time. Nothing.

* * *

She sat on the floor in her cell, back pressed against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, arms pulling them in tight as she hid her face in the empty space between, hidding her tears. Rocking back and forth, she took shallow, shuddering breaths, biting back the sobs wracking her body. She wouldn't let them see her cry. Never let them see her cry.

She'd hurt one of the kids. She didn't mean to, of course, no way she meant to. It was just … they finally started attacking her, even if she wasn't attacking them … and … fuck. The Cerberus fucks wouldn't even tell her if the boy lived.

_Garrus isn't coming._

She stopped rocking, rubbing her cheeks over her knees. "Then I'll get myself the fuck out of here." She sniffed, sucking down phlegm buildup in her sinuses and raised her head, looking around the cell. Just like the one on Pragia, it had a two-way mirror, only the one in her current cell let assholes look in on her instead of making her watch the world passing her by. Two-way mirror, chair bolted to the floor, bed bolted to the floor, and a reinforced steel door. That was it. That was what she had to work with.

Jack pushed herself to her feet, scrubbing her palm over her eyes. She spent a few minutes pacing, racking her brain to find a way to escape the cell, but she couldn't think of anything. She tried ripping the chair free from the floor, but it got her nowhere. The bed wouldn't budge either, so she banged on the mirror, yelling and screaming obscenities at whoever watched her from behind the glass.

Finally, they got tired of listening to her, and her door opened, big ass men wearing scrubs filling her doorway. "Ready for another round in the pits, Subject Zero?"

"Fuck you. Don't call me that." She snarled, curling her hands into fists and backing away from the door as the first man stepped through. Let him think she was scared of him, she didn't give a fuck, she wanted him complacent.

"Such a dirty mouth." He tsked, smirking at her as he eyed her up and down. "I got something you can do with that mouth."

"I wouldn't put my dick near her mouth, bitch would probably bite it off." The other man stepped into the room behind the first, leaving the door open behind him. "Wouldn't mind a piece of that ass, though."

"Yeah?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Come and get it then." She popped her shoulder in a shrug. "If you think you're bad enough." She reached for her biotics, not giving up when she hit a wall of nothingness, fighting to push past it. She remembered the face of the little boy she beat the shit out of when she snapped in the pits. Remembered the faces of all the kids she plowed her way through the first time she escaped a Cerberus facility. Remembered all the shit Cerberus did to her, pulling it all into an angry, snarling ball of hate and used it to smash straight through the wall.

Just as the two sick fucks were closing in on her, biotic flames sprang to life around her body, filling her with an euphoric rush. The shock and fear in the two assholes' eyes was orgasmic. Throwing out a Shockwave, she rushed forward, fists flying.

* * *

Alarms blared throughout the facility, a long line of corpses trailing behind her. She located a weapons locker, finding her shit inside. "Fuck yeah."

She closed the door to the room, leaving it open a crack to make sure it didn't lock, and stripped out of the torn jumpsuit as fast as she could. Pulling on her pants, she strained to listen beyond the sound of alarms. Strapping her harness back on, she moved to the door, peering out through the crack. The halls were still empty, but it was only a matter of time before more Cerberus bastards moved in on her. Balancing on one foot, she slipped on a boot and then closed the lowest buckles and the top buckle, leaving the ones in between loose to save time. As soon as she got her other boot secure, she grabbed her guns, holstering her shotgun and checking the heat sink on her heavy pistol, activating her Warp ammo and grinned.

_Time to get the fuck out of here._

Moving back to the door, she pressed against the cool metal, looking both ways before stepping out of the storage room and over a dead Cerberus fuck. She almost made it to the end of the hall before the sound of armored boots clanking against the floor echoed down the hall, moving towards her. She grit her teeth, thinking of all the times Shepard yelled at her in battle, telling her to keep her ass behind cover. Glancing around, she spotted a planter a little ways back the direction she came from. Letting out a frustrated growl, she turned and ran down the hall, sliding behind the planter just as the first bullets started flying.

She ducked out of cover, sending a Shockwave out as soon as they got close enough, but it didn't do a whole lot of good against full armor. Still, it made the two commandos up front stumble back, and gave her a chance to fire off a few shots.

"Shit! Where'd she get a gun?"

Jack grinned, ducking back behind the planter, waiting for her amp to cool down while bullets peppered the back of her cover. Pulling more biotic energy into her hands—fuck it felt good—she turned out, flinging them from her body to pick up one of the commandos in a Pull. She lifted her gun, firing off three more shots before pressing her back against the cover. She listened, hearing the man drop to the ground with a thump, and peered past the edge of the planter. He didn't get back up again.

She smirked, pulling more biotics up and sent them flying.

* * *

Jack saw the exit, it was right fucking there, so why the  _fuck_  was she hesitating? She'd taken a couple of hits, but patched herself up with Medi-gel. She was starting to taste the burned, metallic tang of an overheating amp on her tongue when she used her biotics, letting her know she really needed to rest some place and get something to eat, let herself recharge. She'd run out of ammo twice and had to switch to her shotgun until she could harvest more off of the corpses she left in her wake. The exist was right in front of her, she was more than ready to get the fuck out of the place. She  _needed_ to get the fuck out … but she kept thinking about those kids.

"Goddamn you, Shepard." She growled, turning down the hall on her left instead. "Made me fucking soft. Shit."

She ran, flinging biotics at any researcher—or whatever the fuck the lab coat wearing assholes were—lucky enough to still be alive and yet stupid enough to get in her way. She knew she'd find the children housed close to the pits, and she was pretty sure she knew how to get back there.

* * *

"Fuck!" Jack flared, biotics licking around her as she dragged herself up from the floor, already feeling the bruises forming, pretty sure she'd cracked a rib or two, maybe fractured her wrist. "I'm trying to help you, you little shit!"

Seven girls, cowering in the corner of their dormitory, looked at her from between the slats on a bunk bed. An eighth girl stood out in the middle of the floor, blue-white biotic energy surrounding her. The little bitch used a Slam on Jack the second she stepped through the door, tossing her up in the air to hit the ceiling before ramming her back down into the floor. She'd barely gotten her biotics up around her in enough time to buffer some of the damage.

"Right," the ringleader said, lifting her lip in a sneer that might've, under different circumstances, made Jack actually like her a little. "Like you helped Matt."

_Matt. The kid's name is Matt._

Jack growled. "I don't have time for this shit. Do you want to get the fuck out of here or not?"

"You can't get out of here." The kid had balls, Jack would give her that. She stared Jack down, defiance written all over her face. "No one ever gets out of here. They'll kill you if you try."

"Yeah, well, I've already killed most of  _them_ , and I'm still standing." Jack waved her left hand back towards the exit, the twinge of pain in her wrist only pissing her off worse. "Now come the fuck on, we've got to move."

The girl glanced over her shoulder at the other's hiding behind the bed before looking back at Jack, staring at the gun in Jack's hand. "What about the boys?"

Jack let out a frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes. "We'll get them, too."

"What about Matt?" the girl asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Where is he?" Jack licked her lips, something in her loosening a little, taking the girls question to mean the kid was still alive.

"In the hospital room," the girl said.

Fighting back the urge to grab the kid by her shirt and shake her until she just fucking go to the goddamn point, Jac asked, "Where's that?"

The girl hesitated before saying, "I can show you."

"Well then why the hell are we still talking?" Jack turned toward the doors before glancing back at the girls creeping out from behind the bunk. "Stay close to me, and if I tell you to do something, you'd better fucking do it if you want out of here alive."

* * *

They'd managed to make it to boy's dormitory two halls over, and Jack coaxed the six boys out into the halls with the rest of them without any trouble. They were on their way to the 'hospital room' to get Matt when more Cerberus assholes showed up, taking shots at Jack  _and_  the kids. She expected the little shits to freak the fuck out and run, but they didn't. They listened to her when she told them to duck down behind the nurses' station or whatever the fuck it was.

Jamie, the little chick with the attitude, didn't stay down, though. Jack kept seeing biotics flying past her, picking commandos up with a Slam. She couldn't really complain, the kid was helping, no doubt. Just so long as Jamie didn't get stupid and get shot. Jack didn't have time to fucking babysit.

When the hall was clear again, Jack waved the kids forward. Jamie moved up next to Jack, pointing to one room in particular. Swallowing, dread creeping through her veins, Jack made her way to the door and opened her omni-tool to hack through the lock. She pressed her back to the door frame, waving the kids back against the walls, before hitting the door's release control. The door slid open, and she peered around the edge, something inside of her breaking when her gaze found Matt, unconscious on a bed. The kid was black and blue, face so swollen she barely recognized him as the—maybe twelve-year-old—who she'd finally lost it on in the pits.

A nurse, judging by her uniform and scared-shitless look, stood behind a desk, hands held up in surrender. "Subject Zero, please."

Jack raised her gun, pointing it at the woman wearing Cerberus colors. "Dont. Fucking. Call. Me. That."

"Her name is Jack," Jamie said, crossing her arms.

"Jack! Jack, I'm sorry!" The nurse licked her lips. "Please, please don't kill me. I can … I can help you get out of here. I know where the shuttles are, I have access codes … just please."

Jack narrowed her eyes, everything inside of her telling her to just shoot the bitch and be done with it, but her gaze slid back to Matt. "Is he going to be alright?"

"There's someone coming!" one of the boys whispered, terror filling his voice.

"Shit." Jack glanced over her shoulder. "Get inside, all of you! Get down, over there, behind those crates." She glared at the woman behind the desk. "You, get the fuck down and shut up. And stay the hell away from those kids. I'll tear you to shreds if you go  _near_ them."

She took cover next to the door frame and looked out into the hall, spotting six or seven commandos moving in on her position, and she thought more might be coming. One spotted her, and she fired at him, her shot doing dick against his armor. Then, suddenly, half the squad stopped and turned around, something around the corner catching their attention. They raised their weapons, firing back the way they came. Her heart slammed against her ribs, a hopeful voice in the back of her head yelling Garrus' name.

She watched as a perfectly placed headshot dropped a commando, a grin spreading across her face. "Fuck yeah."

Biotics lifted another commando off his feet, tossing him out of view with a Throw. A Singularity sprung to life, dragging in the wounded standing nearby. Jack threw out a Shockwave, knocking back the Cerberus fucks trying to retreat further down the hall and started shooting. The first familiar face to come into view wasn't Garrus, but a rainbow-hued drell.

"Feron?" she said, but her voice didn't carry over the sounds of gunfire.

She fired a few more rounds, dropping a commando, drawing Feron's attention. The drell took one look at her face before smiling and turning back to say something to someone behind him. A moment later, Garrus tore through the hall, assault rifle leveling everything in his way, stealing ground from Cerberus. Thane, hot on his heels, rounded the corner, flinging commandos around with his biotics. An asari Jack didn't recognize pushed forward, taking up position next to Garrus.

As soon as the fighting stopped, Garrus turned, holstering his gun and taking off his helmet. "Jack." His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, she thought he might just fall over completely, he looked so exhausted.

She stepped out into the hall, holstering her heavy pistol. "You're late," she said, a smirk lifting the corner of her mouth.

He chuffed, moving down the hall to her, arms outstretched before he'd made it halfway. She glanced back into the room, finding the nurse still huddled behind her desk and the kids behind the crates. She saw Matt, and shame washed over her. She didn't want Garrus to see what she'd done. Didn't want anyone to see what she'd done.

Garrus stopped a few feet away, arms dropping to the sides. "Jack … you're hurt." He growled, looking over her battered flesh as he slowly moved closer. Reaching out, he gently turned her chin, giving him a view of the side of her head. "What did they do?" he asked, looking at the fresh, still tender scar cutting through her scalp.

She jerked her chin free. "It doesn't matter … there's kids in here who need help. One of them's … one of them's hurt, bad."

Garrus glanced past her into the med bay and flared his mandibles. Thane and the asari moved past him, Thane dipping his head to Jack as he made his way into the room.

"Jack. What happened?" Garrus asked again, reaching for her.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

He hummed, reaching out to press his palm to her cheek, and the goddamn tears started flowing. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in against his chest.

"Jack?"

She turned to look at the kid calling her name, wiping her eyes. Jamie stood in front of the others, biotics surrounding her as she looked over the asari and Thane, keeping them from getting near Matt.

She smirked at the girl's spirit. "It's alright, kid. They're here to help. You're safe now."


	7. Miranda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To avoid confusion, yes, this chapter takes place during the events of the last chapter.

**Miranda**

"I'm sorry, Miranda. I've given you all the help I can. The Alliance won't approve another joint mission to help you track down the Illusive Man again." Anderson let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "You're on your own."

"Damn it." She pushed her hands into the comm room table, letting her head hang, hair forming a veil between her and the others watching her scramble to pull the pieces together.

They were so close. He was right there, how the bloody hell did they let him slip away again? And of course, Cerberus took Jack. Shepard would never trust her again. No wonder Shepard didn't ask her to lead the other team into the collector base. She might have the knowledge, the understanding, the tactics to lead a team, but the evidence indicated she utterly lacked the  _skill_. She didn't possess that  _thing_ , whatever it was, that made people willing to follow her orders, even if it meant marching into hell itself. How in the world was she supposed to take over Cerberus? Clearly, Shepard made a mistake in choosing her for such a momentous task.

Straightening herself once more, she forced her face into the picture perfect example of calm confidence and smiled at the councilor. "I see, of course. Thank you, Councilor. I'll … contact the Shadow Broker and see if he can be of assistance."

"Mmm. Sounds like a good plan. Keep me updated?" Anderson arched an eyebrow.

She nodded. "I will."

_What now? What the bloody hell do I do now?_

Miranda let out a sigh when Anderson cut the call and turned to look at Jacob. "Get in touch with Grundan Krul. See if he's found anything on Jack, and see if he can figure out where the Illusive Man has gone to ground. We need to finish this and fast."

He gave her a curt nod. "You got it, I'll call as soon as the meeting's over."

"EDI?" She turned back to the table as the blue hologram replaced the screen.

"Yes, Miranda?" EDI's tone sounded sedate, lacking the friendly, warm edge her programmers gave her to help put people at ease.

Miranda fought the urge to frown and turned, pressing her hip against the edge of the table. She knew the loss of Joker troubled EDI, but she didn't suspect the depth of the issue until Tali told her of the conversation between the two of them about EDI's development and subsequent rejection of emotion. It left Miranda feeling unnerved around the unshackled AI, but so far, EDI still seemed intent on helping, and Shepard trusted EDI.

She let out a sigh. "Help Jacob and Grundan Krul, see if you can extrapolate the Illusive Man's location through the Charon Relay's logs."

"As you wish," EDI's iris fluttered open and closed as she spoke before the hologram collapsed, disappearing from sight.

Miranda let out a soft huff and turned her attention to the two quarians standing off to her left. "Tali, Kal, I want you to—"

"Forgive the interruption," Kal said, tucking his hands behind his back, "but we've been talking, and Tali and I believe it's time we return to Rannoch. I'm sorry, we want to help, but our people need us."

A knot formed in Miranda's throat, her stomach dropping down into her boots. "I see." She glanced at Lia, and the young quarian's nervous fidgeting told her all she needed to know. "I suppose Lia and Legion will be returning with you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kal nodded his head.

Miranda glanced down at the floor, sucking on her teeth and shook her head. "I can't deviate from course to take you to Rannoch, but if we find the Illusive Man has gone somewhere in line with the Migrant Fleet, perhaps we can make a short detour."

"No need," Kal said, bringing Miranda's gaze back to him. "I've secured us passage on a ship leaving from Earth. It seems Councilor Anderson has worked out an agreement with Admiral Zaal'Koris to provide aid in establishing a trade route to Rannoch and non-perishable supplies are being sent over. Give us an hour and lend us use of a shuttle back to the planet's surface and we'll be out of your way."

_Damn it._

Miranda sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Of course." She sincerely hoped Grundan Krul would find the Illusive Man  _and_ be willing to help fill in their ranks when she went after him again. She'd speak to Jacob about it privately, after the meeting, where the others wouldn't hear her desperation.

Grunt shrugged when she glanced at him. "I don't have anything better to do."

She smiled, grateful for the krogan and his propensity towards the option leading to violence.

* * *

Miranda let out a frustrated growl, tossing the datapad onto her desk. Jacob watched her, an infuriating smirk on his face. She snorted, rolling her eyes and continued to pace.

"Sit down, Miranda." Jacob chuckled and crossed his arms. "You're not doing anyone any good wearing a hole through the deck."

"EDI caught Sanders and Kellerman attempting to sabotage the ship's drive core. Tali and the others are leaving. Jack's been kidnapped. Shepard's gone  _insane_." She huffed, rolling her eyes again, catching sight of Jacob giving her the stink-eye. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I know she's not truly insane, but she might as well be for as much good as she's able to do right now. This entire mission is in shambles. Tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

He raised his eyebrow, moving to intercept her and took her by the shoulders. "Sit. Down." Guiding her over to the chairs by the window, he gently pushed her down into one. "Breathe. Just take five minutes and breathe." He moved behind her, kneading at the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders.

She moaned, tucking her chin in against her chest as he worked. She'd forgotten how good he was at helping her to destress, hands warm and strong going straight for the places she carried the most tension. It wasn't the only thing he was good at with his hands either if she recalled. She groaned, half to chase the thought from her head and half in appreciation for the massage.

He chuckled, moving her hair aside. "We've got this, alright? We'll figure it out. We'll get the Illusive Man and get you set up to take over."

"I hate him." She sighed, the motion leaving her feeling deflated and empty. "How could he work with my father, after everything? I've been a blind fool. The things he's done … he's monstrous. How did I ever put my faith in him, in Cerberus?"

"You thought you were doing something good, just like the rest of us." Jacob stopped rubbing for a second, and she tilted her head back to rest against his stomach, looking up at him. He shrugged and started massaging again. "Well, at least some of us."

"Why are you still here with me, Jacob?" she asked, barely above a whisper despite there being no one else around.

He smiled down at her, the deep pressure of his thumbs softening into gentle caresses for a moment. "Where else would I go?"

Maybe it was just the stress of the situation getting to her, but his loyalty struck a chord, making her question why exactly things didn't work out between them in the past. He was a good man, perhaps better than she deserved … but it didn't change the fact he wanted to have a family someday, and that was something she could never give him. Instead of telling him as much, she'd put distance between them, ridiculed him, made him feel incompetent until finally, he ended their relationship. She regretted it, regretted so much.

"Jacob, there's something I need to tell you." She sucked in a deep breath, using it to slip a little steel in her spine; she needed all the courage she could get. "Something I should've told you long ago."

He raised an eyebrow in question, stopping his work on her neck and shoulders. She turned, letting his hands slip away from her, and she waved at the other chair. She fought the urge to cringe away from the look on his face, the same, closed-off, armored look of a man ready to go into battle he wore so often towards the end of their relationship. He watched her in silence while she gathered her thoughts.

She sucked in another deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I long suspected, but I know for certain now … I can't have children."

Jacob blinked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He watched her for a moment in silence, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Finally, he blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. "Damn. I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know why?"

"I have a benign neoplasm—the start of a tumor, or tumors—which has made it impossible for me to conceive." She swallowed and looked out the window, speaking the words out loud bringing her a whole new, fresh wave of pain. She should already have come to terms with her infertility, but somehow, the hole it left in her never shrank. "The doctors weren't able to say whether or not for certain it's caused because of my genetic tailoring, but I  _know_ it is."

"I'm sorry, Miranda." And he did sound sorry. "But why tell me? Why now?"

She turned her attention back to him and gave him a wry smile. "You wanted a family. I knew I couldn't give you one, and I hated myself for it, so I pushed you away. You deserve to know why I was so terrible to you."

He lowered his gaze, rubbing his hand over his head. "I wish you would've told me then. I was falling for you, hard. If we'd stayed together, if things worked out like that for us, we could've found a way to make a family work. If that's what you wanted, too. Instead, you just …."

She leaned over, reaching out and settling a hand on his knee. "I know, and I'm sorry, Jacob."

His gaze snagged on her hand for a second before meeting her gaze, something cold and detached staring back at her from his eyes. "Whatever. It's in the past. I mean, I'm glad you finally told me, but we can't change what's already happened, right?"

"Right …." She pulled her hand away, moving it into her lap, a new crack forming in her heart.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean you lost Jack?" Garrus growled, leaning into the camera, mandibles tight against his face. "Better yet, why am I learning this from Grundan Krul instead of  _you_?"

Miranda fought back the urge to flinch in the face of the turian's rage. Instead, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I felt it was important for us to make every effort to reclaim her before informing you, because, obviously, it would upset you and Shepard might pick up on that. We can't risk anything interfering with her recovery right now, Garrus."

He growled again, low and threatening. "You better pray to whatever god you believe in that I get to her in time, Miranda. Because I swear by the Spirits, if she's … if she's dead—"

"Garrus," Thane said, settling a hand on his shoulder.

Garrus jerked away and turned, storming off out of sight.

Thane blinked and tucked his hands behind his back. "There is something we wished to pass on to you, on behalf of Shepard."

"What is it?" Miranda arched an eyebrow. "Has her condition changed? It's been a couple of days since I've spoken to Dr. Chakwas."

"No—not exactly." Thane glanced down for a moment before shifting and meeting Miranda's gaze again. "We were able to make contact with Jane, however, and she shared with us some rather disturbing possibilities Shepard has been thinking on."

"Oh good, the implant is functioning properly." She crossed her arms over her chest, dropping her weight to one hip. "Still, I should call Dr. Chakwas and have her run a few specs scans."

"Indeed." He brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, shifting a little more. "I suspect EDI may have more information on the matter, but you undoubtedly recall Shepard's discussion of the AI the leviathans created, the one who in turn created the reapers, the Intelligence as she called it."

Miranda arched an eyebrow, confused by the direction of the conversation. "Of course."

"Shepard is concerned it may be capable of monitoring people on the Citadel." He waved a hand before bringing his palm to his chest, pressing against his sternum before dropping his hand from sight once again. "Capable of listening to conversations spoken aloud, intercepting anything written in a digital format, digital transmissions, perhaps even able to view the smallest of details through security features on the Citadel."

The blood drained from her face as she considered the implications. If the Intelligence had that level of control, that level of awareness, then it had to already know what plans were set in place to stop the reapers. It had to already know about the Crucible plans, about what pathetic little the Council was doing to prepare ….

"As Jane mentioned, Shepard already has the notice of the one called Harbinger." Thane's gaze shifted, looking around him as he took in a deep breath, shoulders lifting and shifting back. "Undoubtedly the Citadel is a prime location for indoctrinated individuals. She suspects the AI may be monitoring her, in specific. If this is the case, if the Intelligence is aware of her and perceives her as a threat …."

_Jesus Christ._

Dropping her hands to the table's surface, she leaned a little closer to the screen, fear turning her blood to ice in her veins. "Then the Citadel is the last place in the galaxy she should be."

He dipped his head. "Precisely."

_This can't be happening._

She blinked a few times, mind reeling as she tried to consider the best course of action. She had to keep Shepard safe; even if Shepard wasn't exactly in a position to lead them in war, the commander still knew more about the reapers and what was to come than anyone else. And … Miranda realized she cared about the woman—Shepard was her  _friend_. "Has anyone spoken to Anderson about this?"

"We don't see a way to have this discussion with him without the Intelligence being aware. If it is as advanced as Shepard makes it seem, our best attempts at encryption would prove utterly pointless, and if he decides to move her, the indoctrinated may intervene and attack." Thane brought his hand back to his chest, rubbing his palm against his sternum. "Shepard is becoming restless, distraught. She's begun lashing out at the people around her, even those she knows and trusts. She injured James and broke the arm of a marine guarding her door. She's been saying she wants to leave the Citadel and is frustrated that we're not doing as she asks."

Miranda sucked in a deep breath, the problems piling up settling a heavy weight over her shoulders. "Cerberus has a drug capable of suppressing biotics, maybe if we—"

"No." Garrus' voice came from somewhere off-screen. "You're talking about Omega-Enkaphalin, Jack told me all about it." He moved back into sight, mandibles flicking in clear agitation. "About the permanent damage it can cause and the way Cerberus experimented on your own operatives to build a resistance to the drug. How you surgically altered her to make her resistant."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, finding it harder and harder to not snap at the turian. Her patience was running thin. " _I_ wasn't involved in that project, Garrus. That being said, after Shepard unshackled EDI, she gained access to Cerberus' records, and one of the things she learned is that Cerberus has since modified O-E. It no longer causes damage, of any sorts, and it's highly effective."

"Regardless," Thane said, holding up a hand to silence them both, "I don't believe suppressing Shepard's biotics would be wise. Other than her hand to hand skills, it is the only method of defending herself she has right now, and as we just discussed, she very well may be surrounded by enemies."

"Then what do you propose?" she asked. She crossed her arms again, leaning her weight back on one hip.

"I think we should attempt to locate this AI," Thane said, dipping his head. "Discreetly, of course."

Miranda arched an eyebrow. It was an interesting idea, but how would they even go about it? Shepard said the Citadel moved, rearranged itself during the final battle, she couldn't tell anyone where exactly the Intelligence was located. The Council wouldn't simply allow a full-scale search, they'd have to cover every area of the Citadel, including the embassies and the Council Chambers. Not to mention, if the Intelligence was watching, it'd certainly take notice of something so obviously out of place.

She waved a hand, inviting Thane to continue. "And then?"

"We destroy it." Garrus sliced the air with a hand. "Obviously."

"That would be unwise," EDI's voice filled the comm room.

"Why would it be unwise?" Garrus asked, flaring his mandibles.

"Shepard has made it very clear that the Intelligence controls the reapers, and should she be unable to find an alternative before it's too late," EDI said and then paused for just a second, as if giving them the opportunity to follow her train of thought, "the Intelligence, as the Catalyst, is vital in her ability to stop the reapers and end the war. If we destroy the Intelligence now, we can't know what effect it will have on the reapers, or if the Crucible will still work without the Catalyst."

"Damn." Garrus looked down, shaking his head.

They all knew the Crucible was a last resort, something Shepard wished to avoid using if at all possible. According to her, if they used the Crucible, it'd destroy all of the mass relays, cutting everyone off from each other, effectively destroying galactic civilization. She never made the specifics clear, but she implied it was possible for the Crucible to even destroy all sorts of other pieces of advanced technology … including EDI and the geth. And, if Shepard was right, there was a chance the Crucible was responsible for her unique circumstances, somehow forcing her to repeat the war over and over again. Yet, they all knew, if it came down to it, if it meant the reapers or the galaxy, Shepard wouldn't hesitate to pull that trigger.

"Perhaps there's another option," someone else said, though Miranda couldn't see who.

Garrus turned his attention off-screen. "What are you thinking?"

A moment later, he nodded, stepping back to allow room for whoever it was. A drell—Miranda recognized as Feron—stepped into view, bowing his head to her. Thane took a couple of steps back, tucking his hands behind his back and watched the other drell, expression utterly passive.

"Feron," she said, nodding her head in acknowledgment. "You have an idea on the matter?"

"Perhaps it is unwise, as … EDI suggested, to destroy the Intelligence, but I agree with Thane," Feron said, glancing over his shoulder at Thane, "we should certainly try to locate it." He turned his attention back to Miranda. "If we can locate it, we can monitor its signals, perhaps interrupt them somehow, or even send false signals to the reapers instead."

"EDI?" Miranda arched an eyebrow.

"It's feasible, with the right equipment," EDI said, and Miranda thought she caught the hint of intrigue in the AI's voice. "However, I should point out that it is also possible to speak with the Intelligence, should we locate it. Perhaps it can be reasoned with, or at the very least, new information may be discovered."

Feron lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile. "It is certainly something to consider."

* * *

Miranda looked up as her door slid open, and Kelly stepped inside. She raised an eyebrow, minimizing the files on her computer. She knew Shepard said Kelly would eventually see the truth of the Illusive Man and leave Cerberus, but with so much changed, who knew where exactly it left the yeoman. Miranda didn't see any reason to trust her, not really, not yet. "Kelly, what can I do for you?"

Kelly stopped just inside, leaving enough room for the doors to slide closed behind her. She brought her hands up in front of her abdomen, wringing her fingers as she studied Miranda, nibbling on the corner of her lip. "The … the Illusive Man contacted me."

Miranda schooled her expression, turning her chair a little more towards Kelly. "I suppose he knows by now that his little pet, Kai Leng, failed; I'm still alive. I assume you told him I'm still looking for him."

Kelly looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I had to tell him something." She raised her head, meeting Miranda's gaze again. "But … I told him we're heading to the Citadel to regroup."

Miranda arched an eyebrow, they weren't going anywhere near the Citadel, and Kelly knew it. EDI told her they lost the Illusive Man's trail in the Terminus. They were headed for Omega, hoping Shepard built up enough favor in Aria's eyes that the self-proclaimed queen might be willing to share a bit of information with Miranda to aid in her hunt.

"I believe in Cerberus. What Cerberus is  _supposed_ to be. The Illusive Man … I don't … I don't like the idea of hunting the Illusive Man down and killing him. But … he's turned Cerberus into something it was never meant to be."

Pursing her lips a little, Miranda narrowed her eyes and studied the other woman. "What are you saying, Kelly?"

Kelly took a couple of steps closer, shoving her hands down to her side and lifted her chin. "I want to see Cerberus become what it's meant to be. I want to help you replace the Illusive Man."

Miranda leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing her fingers together over her stomach. "No offense, Kelly, but why should I believe you?"

* * *

Watching Jacob as he worked on cleaning and reassembling his weapons, Miranda crossed her arms and rested her ass on his workbench. "Do you think we should trust her? Shepard said she'd eventually turn against Cerberus."

Jacob glanced up at her before turning his attention back to the parts spread out over his bench. "Kelly's a good woman. If she says she wants to help, I believe her."

She let out a sigh, tapping her nails against the leather of her sleeve. "You're right. God, this whole thing is making me paranoid." She brought her hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't think I can do this, Jacob."

He let out a soft chuckle. "Yes you can, Miranda. As long as I've known you, I've never seen you let anything or anyone stand in your way." He turned, leaning his hip against the table when she looked at him again. "You're just scared because you don't have anyone here telling you what to do. Your dad. The Illusive Man. Shepard. You're too used to taking orders, but you don't  _need_ them."

She scoffed. "Apparently, I do."

"No, you don't." He moved a little closer to her, settling a hand down on her shoulder and squeezed. "You really don't. I wish you could see yourself the way I do, the way everyone else does. You're strong, Miranda, and you're damn smart. And I know you think that comes from your genetics, but that's nothing but potential.  _You_  developed that potential, not your father."

Biting her lip, she turned to face him fully, the movement leaving so little space between the two of them. His eyes widened, but he didn't step back, and that gave her the courage she needed. Wrapping her hand around his neck, she leaned in, tugging his lower lip between hers in a kiss. Retreating, she met his gaze, finding confusion and doubt in his brown eyes. She sighed, dropping her hand and stepping away, but she refused to apologize. He stopped her, though, tugging her back to him, and his mouth crushed down on hers, tongue hot and hungry as it pushed its way past her lips. His hands moved over her, tracing her hips and ribs, pulling her in closer. She ran her hands over his chest, curling her fingers in against the fabric, before wrapping them around his neck, pushing herself against him in demand as fire flooded her veins.

Breaking away from him to suck in a gasp of air, she said, "EDI, lock the armory doors."


	8. Shepard

**Shepard**

They sat in their bathtub, hot water washing down over them from the shower. They drew their legs up, wrapping their arms around their knees. Such strange legs, not right at all. They were far too short, too pale, with too little hair, and the feet seemed so small. How did they walk around on such tiny feet and not just fall over?

" _I'm just saying, the more you act like a lunatic, the longer Anderson's going to keep us here,"_ Jane said, and they wished she'd shut up.

Talk, talk, talk. It's all Jane ever did. Why couldn't she just be quiet and let them think? She was jealous of them because they lived outside and she stayed stuck inside. She couldn't get out unless  _they_  said so. She hated them because  _they_  had control. For countless years, she was in charge, she held the power, but not anymore.

" _I'm_ so  _not jealous."_ Jane snorted, leaving them with the impression of her shaking her head. " _Though, I guess some of the others in here are."_

"We need to get off the Citadel," they thought. "We have to get away before it finds us."

" _No kidding."_ Sarcasm filled Jane's voice, spiking their ire. " _So pull your shit together, and stop throwing temper tantrums like a five-year-old."_

A knock at the door startled them, bringing their biotics flaring to life, and for a second, they didn't know where they were at. Then, they remembered they were on the Citadel, in the Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary. "What?"

"Lola? You've been in there for almost an hour." James. The voice belonged to James, and they trusted James. "You plan on coming out any time soon?"

They didn't like being called Lola. Why did he call them Lola? "You're supposed to call us Loco."

"It's Loco now?" James asked.

"Yes," they said, shifting around in the tub to reach the knobs. They turned the water off and pushed themselves up to their feet. "We're coming."

"Okay." His footsteps retreated from the door, and then came closer again. "Hey, Loco, don't forget to put a shirt on this time."

"We won't." They stepped out of the tub, pulling the towel down off the rack and dried themselves off.

They looked in the mirror, shying away from the black-haired, violet-eyed woman staring back at them. They knew her face, knew it was  _her_  body they were inside, but it felt like  _their_  body, only all wrong. Their whole body seemed completely wrong, but some of them found it interesting. They ran their hands down over their chest, ignoring the protests of some as they cupped the tits they found there. It felt nice, but why did they have tits? They didn't have tits, Dawn did. Their bodies died. Probably already rotted away somewhere. Their minds lived in Dawn's body. Dawn had a  _nice_  body.

Jane huffed. " _Dear God."_

They squeezed a little, brushing their thumbs over their nipples, and a shock of heat and need rushed through them. Arousal, humor, shame, disgust, anger, delight, curiosity. They started to dip their hand lower, wanting to explore the most interesting sensation down below, foreign yet completely familiar. Jesus Christ, where the hell did their cock go? They had a pussy now, too? They slid their hand down over their stomach, reaching for the patch of hair between their legs. Rebuke, anger. They jerked their hand away, a growl ripping through their throat. Scowling, they picked up the bra laying on the counter, wrapping it around themselves and snapping it closed with expert fingers. Pulling the straps up, they shoved their arms through and tugged it into place.

* * *

They didn't know if they were real, if James was real. They died, they knew they did; choking to death on their own blood, laid out in the wreckage of the Citadel, with their implants short-circuiting, sending out bolts of lightning through their head. Sitting down on the couch next to him, they pulled their legs under themselves and turned to face him. He glanced at them, wariness creeping in around the edges of his eyes, but he smiled. He always smiled. They reached out, tracing the still healing wound on his forehead, and he winced but didn't pull away. They did it to him, hurt James, they remembered.

"We didn't mean to," they whispered, sadness washing over them, warring with indifference.

He reached up, wrapping his hand around theirs, folding their fingers inside of his. "I know, Loco. I know."

He squeezed their hand, letting them keep a hold of him for the time being. They liked it when he let them keep contact with him. He felt real, and if he was real, maybe it meant they were, too.

They tugged his hand over to their lap and covered it with their other one, ignoring the twitch of his fingers. "James, we need to leave the Citadel."

He parted his lips, tilting his head a little as he looked at them. "Loco … we've talked about this, remember? Anderson's the only one who has the authority to let you leave."

"We remember." They didn't like to be called Loco, but they didn't correct him, it wasn't important. "Then tell Anderson."

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "Anderson knows … but he thinks you need to stay here a while longer."

They huffed, irritation tightening their shoulder muscles. "But we  _need_ to go."

"Shepard, we can't." James shook his head, lips tugging down at the corners. "I can't just take you out of here. I'm sorry."

Biotics burst to life over their skin, and James jerked his hand back, scrambling away to push himself to his feet. The muscles along his chest and arms rippled, face looking cut from stone. They knew he was getting ready to have to defend himself against them, and it only made them feel more helpless. James shouldn't feel threatened, not by them, but it wasn't like they didn't give him a good reason.

" _Don't!"_ Jane screamed so loud it made them cringe. " _Don't do this. It's not James' fault."_

But they weren't  _trying_ to do anything, they just felt angry, and sometimes it just happened. They tried to push the energy away, tried to calm down so the biotics might dissipate on their own, but it just didn't work. Nothing ever worked anymore. Growling in frustration, they reached their mind out and jerked Jane's chain, pulling her out while they slipped inside.

* * *

They didn't even have to think about it anymore, all they needed to do was touch one of the others, and then the Shepard became one of them. Shepards came to them, gathered around them, pleading to be touched whenever they went inside. Others still cowered in fear, staying to the far corners, silent and still. They heard the prayers, though, the other Shepards hoping they wouldn't take notice. Sometimes they'd lift their hand out and pull a few inside, those who wanted to join them, but most of the time they just sat there, thinking. But maybe if there were more of them, then someone would finally listen and get them off the Citadel. So, they held out their hands, feeling the flow of new consciousnesses joining theirs until it started to burn so badly Jane begged them to stop.

* * *

Opening their eyes, they pushed themselves upright, patting James' arm. He'd caught their body when they pulled Jane back inside because someone knocked at the door, and James said he didn't expect any visitors, no one called down from the front desk. Their head hurt, really bad. Flaring with biotics, they moved out of direct line of sight of the door, fighting to shake off a throbbing headache, the hazy feeling, and the scent of burning metal filling their nostrils. They knew it meant they'd forced the implant to work overtime, trying to stabilize their brain activity as they consumed more Shepards, but the feeling always faded eventually.

James frowned at them. "It's alright, Loco. There are guards at the door, yeah?"

They narrowed their eyes at him, for all they knew, the guards were indoctrinated and reporting to the Intelligence. "Yeah," they said, but they didn't let go of the dark energy surrounding their fists.

" _You might be right, just try not to lash out until we know for sure, alright?"_ Jane said, " _You should've let me stay out, if something is wrong, I'm better equipped to deal with it, and you know it."_

"We can handle it," they said.

James moved to the door, activating the security feed, but they couldn't see the screen past him. "It's Anderson." Opening the door, he stepped aside, letting them see the man standing in the doorway.

" _It's Anderson, you can calm down."_ Jane's voice sounded sugary sweet, almost like a coo, as if they were nothing but children she wanted to soothe, but it only pissed them off. " _Drop the biotics before you do something stupid."_

They eyed Anderson for a moment, trying to decide if he was real. Anderson's gaze found them, and he smiled, making his way straight for them despite the threat of biotic flames licking over their skin. Coming to a stop in front of them, he reached out and dropped a hand down on their shoulder, giving them a little squeeze. Solid, warm, and real.

" _See, Anderson?"_ Jane said, still with the same obnoxious tone. " _Relax."_

"How're you doing, kid?" He patted their shoulder before standing at parade rest.

They let their biotics die down, holding his gaze. Determination renewed itself with him right in front of them, they needed to let him know about the Intelligence. "We need to leave the Citadel, Anderson. It's not safe for us here, and we have things we need to do."

" _I told you, I passed it on to Thane, and he talked to Garrus."_ Forced patience and Jane's false smile filled their head. " _It's probably why they went to see Grundan Krul. Things are being put into motion, we just have to be patient."_

"Stop talking to us like we're children!" they thought loud enough to make Jane flinch.

" _Then stop acting like children!"_ Jane's anger hit like a burning whip, a lash ripping through their head for just a second, making them clench their jaw and press their thumb to their eye.

Anderson sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure anywhere is safe for you, Shepard." He glanced over his shoulder at James as the marine moved to sit at the counter, and then he turned his attention back to them. "You're not ready for active duty, and right now, things are calm enough for you to rest and recuperate. I feel better having you on the Citadel where I can keep an eye on you, and you've got Lieutenant Vega and a rotation of Alliance guards stationed outside. I'm sorry, Shepard, but this is the best I can do for you right now."

"You're not  _listening_." They grabbed Anderson's arm, shaking him a little. "It's not safe on the Citadel. For anyone, but especially for us. It can hear us, it's watching us. We know it is."

" _Hey, chill. Get your damn hands off of Anderson."_ Jane huffed, irritation passing through them. " _If the Intelligence_ is  _monitoring us, if you keep talking about it, you'll definitely draw its attention."_ She seemed to suck in a deep breath, despite not having use of their lungs, as if trying to calm herself. " _Trust in Garrus and Thane to deal with this."_

Anderson held his free hand up, stopping James in his tracks when James hopped up, rushing in toward them. "What's watching you?" Anderson's brows drew in, his head turning a fraction of an inch to the side. If their grip on him bothered him, he didn't let it show.

They let out a frustrated growl, all the words tumbling through their mind, too fast, too strong, too many for anything to make it to their lips. Jane fought against them, trying to distract them, force them to keep their mouth shut. They blinked, and then they weren't in their room in The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary anymore. The Illusive Man stood in front of them, making them shoot Anderson. Reeling back, they shook their head, fighting to force the image from their mind, struggling to reassert themselves on reality.

"Commander." Anderson's voice sounded so far away.

" _God, not again. Keep it together."_

They sat down next to him on the Citadel. The Illusive Man lay dead not far away. Everything hurt so bad, they felt so weak, losing so much blood. They didn't think they'd last much longer at all. Anderson bled pretty bad, too. They weren't going to make it off the Citadel, but they'd be damned if they let Anderson give up hope for even a second.

Ships exploded in the distance, painting the sky in a flourish of bright white, yellows, and oranges. Good men and women fighting and dying against the reapers. The species united, standing their ground, holding the line for the last push. Earth, larger than life and standing proud in the background, a testament to the sacrifices being made. It was all or nothing. The galaxy's last chance, everything riding on the Crucible.

"We did it," they said, glancing at Anderson. He didn't look good at all.

"Yes, we did." His gaze focused out the window. "It's, uh, quite a view."

They let out a soft chuckle, doubt creeping in around the edges of their conscious. What if the Crucible didn't work after all? "Best seats in the house."

"God. Feels like years since I just sat down." Anderson's words came slower, with a little more pause between each one.

They glanced at him, lips lifting a little in a smile. "I think you earned a rest." They all did. They watched Anderson for a moment, his head starting to list a little, and their heart skipped a beat. "Anderson?"

"No." They dug the heels of their hands against their eyes, struggling to push the memories away. "No. No. It's not real."

"Mmm." Anderson groaned a little, pulling his head back up only for it to nod and drop again, chin falling to his chest, eyes rolling up before his eyes slid closed.

Fear wrapped a fist around their heart, but they kept their voice steady. "Stay with me. We're almost through this." They turned their gaze back out at Earth, knowing Anderson was dying, hating there was nothing they could do to help him. How long did it take for the Crucible to do whatever the hell it'd been designed for and end the damn war? They needed an extraction team.

"Shepard?" Anderson called out to them, but it wasn't right, he didn't say their name there.

" _It's alright, calm down. He's here right now. Right in front of you. He's not dead yet, might not even die at all. There's still time."_ That voice. Where did that voice come from? It sounded like them but it wasn't them.

"You did good, son." He moved a little, shifting in their peripheral. "You did good." His head dropped again, chin hitting his chest. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." They managed to turn their head to look at him, but he'd stopped breathing. "Anderson?"

Nothing. Dead. Anderson was dead.

"Shepard? Shepard, I'm right here." Anderson's voice reached their ears, but it didn't come from the corpse sitting next to them.

Tears filled their eyes, making them growl in frustration. They were memories. Just memories, but the memories refused to pull back, refused to leave them be, until they weren't so sure anymore what was real. "No, Anderson's not dead." They raked their hands through their hair, pulling it into fists and shook their head. "No," they said again, disgusted by the way their voice came out as a whimper. "No."

" _No, you're right. He's not dead."_ Jane. The voice belonged to Jane. They remembered Jane.

"Okay, okay. It's alright, Loco." Big, beefy arms wrapped around them, leading them off somewhere unseen. "This happens sometimes. Dr. Chakwas thinks she's having trouble sorting out memories from what's happening right now. She just needs a few minutes, when she gets like this, she usually checks out for a little bit. I need to get her sitting down."

They whimpered again, hot tears streaking down their cheeks. "Anderson's not dead."

"No, Loco. Anderson's not dead. He's right here." James pushed at their shoulders, urging them down, and they sat before retreating from the memories completely, going to the only place where they could make them stop.

* * *

They sat inside with the others, knees drawn up against their chest, rocking back and forth in the nothingness. Jane and John fought to keep the others away from them, afraid they might start pulling more Shepards in and burn themselves out in the process. Everything was going wrong. Joker died. Zaeed died. Liara, Kaidan, Ashley, and Dr. Tulina. Talitha and Toombs. Everyone was dying. They got it all wrong. They were supposed to be fixing things, breaking the cycle and saving the galaxy from the reapers, but they got it all wrong. The leviathans refused to help, they ran away and hid somewhere else. Everything. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

No. Not everything. They'd changed a lot of things, but not all of them were wrong. They'd gained krogan and STG support. They evacuated the Bahak System. The Crucible was already under construction. They still grabbed control of the Shadow Broker's resources, and Miranda was working on replacing the Illusive Man, she'd turn Cerberus around. The quarians forged an alliance with the geth and some lived on Rannoch again already. They found a way to help save Mordin and still cure the genophage. Different. So much different. Was it enough? Could any of it ever be enough?

* * *

They came back into their body as James sat a tray down in front of them. They blinked, looking around the room for Anderson, but they didn't see him anywhere. They sighed, shoulders slumping. They needed to tell him, needed to explain about the Intelligence watching them, and they needed to do it before they fell apart again. Their mind felt jittery, there was too much going on. The new ones were too strong, taking too long to adjust.

"Are you hungry, Loco?" James made his way back to the kitchen area and picked up another tray, carrying it back over to sit down next to them. "I made enchiladas."

They rubbed their head, it still hurt. "Where's Anderson?"

"He left a couple of hours ago. You stayed out for quite awhile, and he needed to get back to work." He waved his hand and shrugged. "You know, doing, uh, whatever it is councilors do."

"We didn't get to tell him." They shook their head, squeezing their eyes closed against the pain lancing through their skull.

He sighed, putting his heavy hand on their back. "Anderson knows you want to leave, Loco."

"No," they said, opening their eyes again to look at him, "we didn't get to tell him about the Intelligence."

Jane let out an exasperated sigh, giving them the image of her throwing her hands up in the air before letting them drop down against her thighs. " _For the love of … will you_ please stop talking about it _?"_

He shrugged. "You've talked to him about it before, though, yeah?"

"It's watching us." They slapped their hand down against their knee, frustration creeping up again. Why didn't anyone ever seem to understand what they said? What made it so hard?

He stopped eating, setting his fork back down on his plate. "What do you mean?"

They growled, saying it again a little slower, "It. Is. Watching. Us."

They pushed up to their hands and knees, head spinning. Looking up, they saw it then, the odd glimmer of a child, like a moving statue carved from flowing ice and light. It was  _the_ child, the one who died back on Earth and haunted their dreams.

The kid walked toward them, squatting down in front of them. "Wake up." His voice sounded odd, distorted, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

" _You took in too many._ " The voice came from somewhere else, somewhere they couldn't place. " _You can't even keep it together for five minutes."_

Tapping into what  _had_ to be the last of their reserves, they pulled themselves to their feet. Their hand moved back to hold their gut, applying useless pressure to their wounds. "What? Where am I?"

"Loco?" Another voice, they thought it sounded familiar. Yeah, they knew the voice. It sounded like James. They didn't know James made it through the beam, where did he come out? "Loco? Hey, what do you mean it's watching us?"

The kid looked up at them. "The Citadel. It's my home."

They looked out over the hulking device behind the boy, a bright beam of energy shooting out through the middle. What the hell was that thing? Was it part of the Crucible? "Who are you?"

"I am the Catalyst," the kid said, voice calm, void of inflection as if he'd said the most obvious thing ever.

It was an AI or a VI. Something the Crucible's science team put in place to make it more user-friendly. It must've tapped into their memories somehow, found a face to use as a holographic interface.

"I thought the Citadel was the Catalyst." Even as they said it, a new thought crept into their mind. The leviathans said they created an AI, put it in charge of finding a way to preserve organic life. They called it the Intelligence, and it turned against them, slaughtering them and creating the first reapers. What if the thing in front of them  _was_ the Intelligence?

"No, the Citadel is a part of me," the AI said.

It was the Intelligence, it had to be. So why talk to them instead of trying to harvest them? They needed to keep it talking, though, needed time to think. But thinking seemed to be getting damn hard. So was staying upright.

"Shepard?" James called out to them again, but they still didn't see him anywhere. Was he lost?

"I need to stop the reapers," they said. "Do you know how I can do that?" Maybe they'd get lucky and the Intelligence would start monologuing and show them a weakness.

"I control the reapers. They are my solution." The Intelligence said it with so much ease, so much confidence. As if the reapers weren't slaughtering people by the thousands with each passing second. The Intelligence created monstrosities, performed horrendous acts, forged abominations out of its victims and then turned them loose to terrorize and kill. Solution … as if the reapers were a  _good_ thing, or like the harvest was meant as some sort of  _gift_.

"No, stop it!" They pulled at their hair, shaking their head. "It's not real. It's not now."

"Hey." Something shook them, and they swatted it away. "Hey, Loco. Come on, it's okay. Let's just eat dinner, alright?" The memory of the Intelligence faded away, James' face taking its place.

They reached out, putting their hand on James' shoulder, using him as an anchor. They felt Jane in the back of their head, annoyance seeping off of her, but she stayed quiet. Finally.

He smiled at them. "There you are. Hey. Your enchiladas are getting cold."

They looked at the plate, slowly reaching out to pick up the fork sitting next to it, all too aware their hand trembled. "Okay."

"Okay. Good." James picked his own fork back up, using the edge to cut into one of the enchiladas. "So, hey, I spoke to Zaal'Koris. He wants to come see you tomorrow."

Their brow knit together, confusion flooding their mind. A quarian admiral wanted to come see them at the hospital? "Why?"

" _Because Dawn's been working with him to get the quarians resettled,"_ Jane said with a sigh. Apparently silence really just wasn't her thing.

James glanced at them, shrugging. "Uh, well, because you two made friends, remember?"

They stayed quiet for a long time, trying to sift through the memories to find one matching what James and Jane said. A few sprung up of them talking to the admiral aboard the  _Rayya_  during Tali's hearing, but then one stood out as different: Zaal'Koris on the  _Normandy_ with Shala'Raan. They talked about the geth forming an alliance with the quarians. They latched on to the memory, realizing it was one of those belonging only to Dawn, and followed the thread, pulling the memories into place. They helped the quarians and geth come to an agreement and then went with Zaal'Koris to Rannoch. They talked to Zaal'Koris, and he showed them his face while he tried to make music with an ancient flute. He intended to get the quarians and geth to help them with the reapers.

Things making more sense, they nodded, turning their attention to their plate. "We remember."

"So, are you alright with him coming to see you?" James asked.

"Yes." They brought a bite to their mouth and paused, frowning when sauce dripped back down, splattering against the plate before splashing onto their shirt. "He's helping with the reapers."

"Right." He handed them a napkin. "I'll send him a message, let him know he's cleared to visit."

They stuck the bite in their mouth, humming their approval as they chewed and wiped the sauce off their shirt. "Where's Garrus?"

"Garrus and Thane went to go talk to Grundan Krul." James put down his fork and opened his omni-tool. "There's a game on, you mind if we watch while we eat?"

"Grundan Krul?" The name didn't make sense. Grundan Krul was one of the names etched into Garrus' visor, a member of his team on Omega. One of the dead.

"Yeah, you remember him." He turned one the vidscreen, finding the channel he wanted, and a soccer game filled the screen. "He's a friend of Garrus'. Grundan Krul helped Garrus out on Omega back when he did his thing as Archangel. Batarian guy, he was on the  _Normandy_  for awhile, and you made him Shadow Broker."

No, that wasn't right at all. They looked at James and shook their head. "Liara's the Shadow Broker."

James muted the volume coming from the vidscreen, turning a little to face them. He reached out, carefully setting his hand on their knee. "Loco … Liara died when the old  _Normandy_  went down. Do you need to go look at your pictures again?"

They glanced at their memorial shelf, taking in the pictures of all of those who died in Dawn's reality, the SR2 standing out on Joker's hat. They remembered. Liara was dead. Tears welled up in their eyes. "No."

" _I'm so sorry."_

* * *

They lay in their bed, listening to the sounds of James' soft snores coming from the other room. Their headache finally faded, but they couldn't get to sleep. They missed their lovers. They missed Garrus. Thane. And Kaidan. Ashley, Jack, Miranda, and Tali. They missed Traynor and Kelly and Liara. Steve and Diana and Jacob. Samara. Even Javik and James.

James lived with them at the hospital, but they weren't supposed to touch him. Not like  _that_. They didn't want to touch him like that anyway, but some of them did. It wasn't all about the physical, not completely. They missed the companionship, being taken seriously. Having what they thought and said be important to someone. They missed being real and whole. Missed being Commander.

" _Tell me about it,_ " Jane let out a weary sigh.

"Is this going to get better? Are  _we_  going to get better?" They whispered, rolling over and pulling the blanket up under their chin.

" _I don't know. I hope so."_ Fear tinged Jane's voice. She may hope, but she didn't believe. " _I really, really hope so, but God, I don't know."_

"What will happen to us if we're still here when the reapers come?" They couldn't stay on the Citadel. Not while the rest of the galaxy scrambled to figure out how to fight the reapers. They needed off the damn hunk of metal if they wanted to stop the reapers. They really couldn't be there when the reapers moved the Citadel to Earth's orbit. Everyone on the Citadel would be killed. Unless … would it end the cycle? If the reapers killed them instead of dying on the Crucible?

" _No matter how screwed up you are, Anderson still knows we have intel vital to the war. He's going to need us out there, and he'll do what needs to be done to make sure we win this thing."_ Jane seemed to hesitate, and they could tell she really wanted to say something else, but she fought to keep it to herself.

They pushed against Jane's wall, trying to get the rest out of her. "What aren't you telling us?"

" _Nothing."_ Jane pushed back, holding her ground. " _Just go to sleep already."_

They let out a sigh, tossing over to their other side. "We can't sleep."

" _Clearly."_ Jane left them with the impression she rolled her eyes at them. " _Maybe take another shower? It helps sometimes. Or rub one out, you seemed pretty interested in exploring this morning."_

They ignored the crude suggestion and instead asked, "What do you think Garrus and Thane will do about the Intelligence?"

Jane seemed to think about it for a moment before saying, " _I don't know, but I trust them to figure something out."_


	9. Zaal

**Zaal**

Zaal knocked on the door, crossing his arms and dropping his weight to one hip. The two Alliance guards stationed outside watched him, and he swore he felt the bigotry rolling off of them. He sniffed, holding his head high. Well, whether they liked it or not, Zaal was cleared to visit Shepard.

The door opened, and he dropped his arms, righting himself and nodding his head. "Lieutenant Vega."

"Admiral, come on in." Vega stepped back out of the way, holding his arm out to usher Zaal inside. "Good timing, she seems to be in a pretty decent mood right now."

"Wonderful." Zaal stepped inside, spotting Shepard sitting on a couch watching a vidscreen, some human programming playing with the volume turned down low. She turned her head to look at him, blinked once, and then turned her attention back to the vidscreen. Admittedly, it stung a little for her to be so dismissive of his presence, but he'd been warned of just such a possibility.

Vega crossed the room to crouch down in front of Shepard, his hand resting on the couch next to her. He kept his voice too low for Zaal to hear, but it was obvious he'd said something to the woman. She reached over, putting her palm against the marine's face for a moment and nodded her head. Zaal blinked, surprised by the act of familiarity.

The lieutenant stood again, moving to turn off the vidscreen before walking back over to Zaal. "Do you want me to stick around or give you two some privacy?"

Zaal cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back. "I would prefer to have a moment alone with her if that is acceptable."

"Alright, but fair warning, if she gets upset, she might lash out. And, she seems to want to touch everyone she sees, the doc said it helps anchor her." Vega glanced over his shoulder again. "I'll be in my room, right over there." He pointed at a closed door. "Holler if you need anything." Turning, he retreated to his room, the door closing again behind him.

Zaal turned his attention back to Shepard who watched him, curiosity, perhaps, on her face. "Shepard, it's good to see you again." Gesturing at the couch, he asked, "May I sit with you?"

Her gaze shifted, looking down at the couch next to her before looking at him again and blinking once. "Okay."

Smiling, he moved to take a seat next to her, sitting at an angle to better face her. "How are you?"

She shrugged but then said, "We don't like being on the Citadel."

We. Ah, yes. Lieutenant Vega told Zaal of the odd development in the way Shepard started referring to herself after the death of her pilot. Such a dreadful thing, the loss of a loved one. He couldn't say he held it together much better than Shepard after he lost his wife and child. Those were dark times, indeed. With her service record and what little he'd learned of her personal history, she'd lost far more.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He hummed, turning a little more toward her. "I thought you might like to hear the latest news of Rannoch."

She blinked again and then narrowed her eyes, studying his mask, "We saw your face on Rannoch."

Heat crept over his face, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, I remember. You watched as I experimented with the  _ha'thana_ —ah, the musical instrument we found in the ruins. I've brought it with me," he said, gesturing to the bag slung over his shoulder. "I've been practicing."

She seemed confused for a moment. "We never saw your face before."

"Well, no …. Do you …" he said and then cleared his throat, "… would it help if you were to see my face now?" He let out a nervous titter, surprising himself with the offer. "Lieutenant Vega mentioned that you've been struggling with—that is to say, you might find it more—"

"Yes." She blinked, voice carrying no indication she understood the weight of the matter or at least no sign she cared.

Taking a deep breath, he activated his antibiotic dispenser. Geth programs stayed uploaded to his suit around the clock, and they did wonders to boost his immune system, but the antibiotics were still necessary, particularly while away from Rannoch. He gave himself a moment to let the antibiotics circulate before settling his hand on his mask and popped the seals. Slipping the mask away, he brought it down to his lap before lifting his gaze to hers. She smiled, something in her eyes seeming to solidify for a moment, reminding him of the spirited woman he'd first met. He grinned, finding it odd how pleased he felt to see that spark in her eyes, but then it faded, leaving behind the almost passive look of vague, general curiosity. Her hand reached for his face, and he pulled back, eyes widening with the flash of horror sweeping through him.

She winced, retracting her hand and shoving it down into her lap. "We're sorry." Agitation and confusion contorted her face into a grimace. "We weren't trying to hurt you."

He cleared his throat, pulling in a deep breath to steady his nerves. "No, Shepard. I'm sorry. Lieutenant Vega did warn me you might want to touch me, I just didn't consider …." He pulled his shoulders back, putting steel in his spine and tilted his head a little in acquiescence. "If you would like, if it makes things easier for you, I believe between the geth programs and the antibiotics, my immune system can handle a few moments of contact without too much complaint."

She lifted her hand again, and he held his breath, staying very, very still. Her palm pressed to his cheek, soft skin hot as fire, and a flood of emotions slammed into him. It'd been so long since he'd felt the touch of another unhindered by his suit. He closed his eyes, swallowing against the pain and grief, against the hope and euphoria. Tears welled up, squeezing past his closed lids, sliding down his face to meet her hand.

"You're crying," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He forced a smile on his face and opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I'm afraid it's a bit overwhelming. This isn't something a quarian experiences all too often. In my case, not since my wife died twenty cycles ago."

* * *

He felt … safer, for countless reasons, with his mask firmly back in place, and thankfully, Shepard remained complacent. He'd spent a few minutes playing the  _ha'thana_ for her since his mask was off anyway, and even though his skill with the instrument still demanded far more practice, it seemed to please her to hear. Currently, she sat next to him, hands pinned between her knees as she leaned over, looking at the pictures of Rannoch on his omni-tool.

"What is this?" She brought a hand up to point at the lower, left corner of the image.

Zooming in on the construct, he said, "It's a soil purification system of geth design." He chuckled and shook his head. "Regrettably, I don't entirely understand how it works myself—other than to say it attracts harmful chemical compounds, pulling them directly from the soil." He glanced at her. "It seems to be working quite well. Do you remember Ket'yah?"

It took her a bit longer to answer than expected, but when she did, she simply said, "We remember."

Zaal smiled, changing the image on his omni-tool's screen. "This is Ket'yah now." He watched her as she looked over the settlement, letting her reach across him to move the composite image on the screen of his omni-tool. "It's nearly completely rebuilt, and it's already being resettled. We have quarian and geth reconstruction teams moving on to other nearby settlements which are still near enough to water sources to be worth rebuilding."

Seeming to lose interest in the pictures, Shepard brought her hand back to her lap, gaze drifting off, staring at a shelf across the room. After a few seconds of silence, she looked back at him. "What about the other admirals?"

He sat back, lifting a leg to rest an ankle on the opposite knee. "Shala'Raan has been spending more time on Rannoch, but she continues to move back and forth between the planet and the Migrant Fleet. She has been slowly winning over more of the civilians, however, Han'Gerrel and Daro'Xen remain … recalcitrant." He sighed. "I'm afraid without a fifth admiral to help tip the balance, there is only so much Shala'Raan and I can do to convince them working with the geth is the best choice."

"Tali," she said, turning sideways and pulling her legs up on the couch, resting her back on the arm.

"Tali?" He shook his head a little. "What about Tali?"

Shepard blinked at him a few times before saying, "You're supposed to make her an admiral."

He caught himself before he laughed, not wishing to be rude. It wasn't that he thought Tali'Zorah to be incompetent, but she was truthfully barely more than a child; Rael'Zorah's child at that. "I … I agree that Tali'Zorah has made a significant contribution to our people by helping to forge an alliance with the geth and get our people home, but I'm not sure—"

"The reapers are coming." She pressed her lips into a grim, thin line and shook her head. "Tali needs to be made an admiral."

"I suppose she does know more about the reapers than the rest of us thanks to her time spent with you." He drummed his fingers on his knee, pondering the implications for a moment. "However, I don't have the authority to make such a call on my own, Shepard."

* * *

"Thank you for meeting with me, Councilors." Zaal dipped his head, tucking his hands behind his back. "And for giving me the courtesy of a private audience."

Anderson straightened, lifting his chin. "The Council is happy to hear the quarians have found a way to reclaim Rannoch without provoking a war, Admiral."

"However, it doesn't change the fact that the geth's creation and existence go against Council law, which as you well know is why the quarian people no longer have an embassy on the Citadel." Valern shifted, shoving his hands into the arms of his robe. "I fail to see how the quarians returning to Rannoch—and forging an alliance with illegal AIs—should change anything about the quarians' relationship with the Council."

Quentius flared his mandibles and turned his head to look at the salarian councilor. "We don't even know why he's here, yet, Valern."

"Quentius is right," Tevos said, threading her fingers together in front of her, "we should at least hear what he has to say before making any judgments."

Anderson brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. "What can we do for you, Admiral?"

"You can tell me what it is you're keeping from the public about the reapers." Zaal shifted his weight back and crossed his arms. "And don't bother telling me the reapers are geth constructs. We all know that they are not, and Commander Shepard remains quite adamant that they are, indeed, still coming."

"You've been to see Shepard?" Tevos' brows raised.

"I have, and what of it?" He raised his brows, too, though he doubted the asari knew enough to read a quarian behind their mask.

Tevos gave him a patronizing smile. "Then you well know that Shepard isn't exactly of a sound mind right now, Admiral."

Scoffing, he waved a hand. "She was of perfectly sound mind when she saved the Council from Saren and Sovereign, despite your constant insistence that Saren wasn't a traitor and your attempts to downplay Sovereign's significance in the matter." He shifted his weight, tucking his hands behind his back again. "The quarians may no longer be  _welcomed_  as a part of the galactic community, Councilor," he said with a sniff, "but it hardly means we are oblivious to what is going on in the galaxy around us."

"Of course," Tevos said, giving him another one of  _those_  smiles. "The Council hasn't forgotten the service of our Spectre nor the countless lives she saved that day, including our own."

Anderson scoffed, drawing raised brows and shocked looks from the other members of the Council. "Can we stop with this nonsense, please?" He glanced down at his feet and shook his head. "The Council has done nothing but stand in Shepard's way at every turn. For God's sake, you've only just stopped hunting her down for charges of treason!"

"Councilor Anderson, I hardly think—" Valern said, cutting off when Anderson sliced his hand through the air.

"No!" Anderson took a deep breath. "Enough of this." He turned to Zaal. "Yes, Admiral, the reapers  _are_  real and they  _are_  coming. For the love of God, do whatever you can to prepare your people for an invasion, because I'm done standing here pretending like we have a handle on things when we don't." He turned back to the rest of the Council. "We don't. We don't have a handle on any of this, and we all know it. The clock is running out, and we still don't have a solid plan on how to face this threat. Meanwhile, you're too busy trying to run interference on the  _one_ person who  _does_  know what we're about to face when we should be listening to everything she has to tell us—whether or not she's 'of sound mind' right now."

Tevos shifted around, clearly uncomfortable as she looked everywhere but at Anderson or Zaal.

"Thank you, Councilor." Zaal took a deep breath. "What  _do_  we know?"

Quentius fluttered his mandibles, glancing at Tevos and Valern before looking at Anderson and nodding. He turned his attention to Zaal and said, "We know that the reapers are a race of sentient AIs."

"According to Shepard … and the evidence she's brought in, the reapers have been acting on a fifty thousand years long cycle in which they harvest the most advanced of the species, leaving more primitive races alone." Valern took a deep breath, holding it a moment before he let it back out. "She discovered a species we have never encountered before hidden beneath the ocean's depths of 2181 Despoina, a species she claims is responsible for the creation of the reapers."

"Apparently," Tevos said, finally meeting Zaal's gaze again, "they were an apex race, ruling over all others by force. They didn't identify themselves, but Shepard's reports refer to them as 'leviathans.' The reapers were made in their image."

"An apt name." Finally getting answers, Zaal relaxed a little. "If they were such an imposing species, why have we never encountered them before?"

"The leviathan's created an AI, they referred to it as 'the Intelligence', because they thought it could provide them with a way to keep other species from creating AIs … it seems they saw a pattern of AIs turning on their creators …." Anderson trailed off, glancing down at the floor for a moment. "Anyway, the AI ended up turning on them, slaughtering most of the leviathans to create the first reapers." He waved his hand in a small circle. "They implement the DNA of the host race into the body of the reaper somehow. Shepard and her team witnessed part of this process on the collector base, they were in the process of using humans to build a new reaper before the base was destroyed. The few leviathans who managed to escape remained hidden, kept their numbers low."

"They have refused Shepard's request for assistance in defeating their own creations, preferring to remain hidden as a means of self-preservation." Quentius flared his mandibles. "There is, of course, some concern that if we win the war, the leviathans will seize the opportunity to assert themselves as galactic rulers once more. They appear quite formidable, possessing mind-control capabilities and somehow are able to achieve space-flight without ships."

"I suggest we send the admiral a full report," Anderson said, looking at the other councilors, "as well as the leaders of every other species. It's time we warn the galaxy."

* * *

"I don't care about your petty squabbles!" Zaal slapped his hands down on the table in the boardroom of the  _Tonbay_ , glaring at Han'Gerrel and Daro'Xen. "Join us on Rannoch or not, the choice is yours, but I'll not hear any more about the geth as enemies or as mere tools. We have far  _bigger_  things to worry about. You've read the Council's reports, and quite frankly, I for one am terrified."

"Admiral Koris is right," Shala'Raan said, leaning her hip against the table, "we need to be concerned with how to defend our people and help the rest of the galaxy." She shook her head. "We've all heard Tali'Zorah talk about the things she has seen and heard about the reapers while working with Shepard. If the Council is finally willing to admit to these truths, then we, too, should take this seriously."

"Which brings me to my next point." Zaal took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable backlash and bickering. "We have gone too long without a fifth admiral, and we are too divided as we stand. I want to put forth Tali'Zorah for consideration as a replacement for her father."

Han'Gerrel sniffed. "Of course you do, she's every bit as sympathetic to the geth now as you are. Rael'Zorah might have used insane methods, but at least he understood the geth are  _not_  our allies."

Zaal sighed and shook his head. "Han'Gerrel, this isn't about the geth. The simple fact of the matter is, of the quarians, Tali'Zorah knows the reapers best. She has dealt with them and worked closely with Commander Shepard. She can help us to better prepare for the invasion."

"It's a fair point," Daro'Xen said, surprising him. "She's a bright young woman, and her familiarity with the geth very well may work in our favor, too. Clearly, our differences of opinion on how the geth should be handled remains a point of contention, but more access to the geth's technological advances, at the very least, can only help the quarians. Perhaps I can learn to work  _with_  the geth, for the time being at least, to develop weaponry and defenses."

Zaal held his breath for a moment, wondering if perhaps he'd misheard or even hallucinated Daro'Xen's response. Clearing his throat a little, he seized the moment. "I'm sure between Tali'Zorah and myself, something could be negotiated with the geth. The geth have been fighting the reapers as well, they also have knowledge we can use … if we work together."

Daro'Xen smiled and it felt like an infection slithering through his system. "Don't get too excited, Zaal'Koris. My opinion on the geth themselves hasn't changed, but I can see now is not the time to push for our rightful control over the geth." She shrugged. "I have no problem with making Tali'Zorah an admiral."

When everyone in the room turned to look at Han'Gerrel, the admiral let out a frustrated growl and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, make Tali'Zorah an admiral. We'll focus on the reapers and pray to our ancestors that while we're all busy with our backs turned the geth don't take the chance to rise up against us once again!"

* * *

"Tali'Zorah, please, come inside." Zaal gestured into the boardroom. He felt bad, Tali'Zorah had only just returned to Rannoch and there he was calling her back aboard the  _Tonbay_. "Thank you for joining us."

Tali'Zorah looked around the room, wringing her hands for a moment before shoving them down to her sides. "Of course, but what's this about? Why have you called me here?"

Zaal chuckled, putting his hand on her back and guiding her further inside the room so the door would close behind them, affording the Admiralty Board a modicum of privacy. "Relax, Tali'Zorah, I assure you this is a good thing."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, skepticism clear in the narrowing of her eyes. "If you say so."

"I do." Zaal let her go, stepping away to join the other admirals on the other side of the table. "Tali'Zorah vas Neema, the Admiralty Board has unanimously voted to offer you a position among our ranks, should you choose to accept."

"You want to make me an admiral?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Yes, Tali," Shala'Raan said. "And with good reason. The Council has provided us with a full report on the reapers, and if our people are to survive this war, we need you to help lead us. You've worked with Shepard, you know more about the reapers than any other quarian."

"You have a working relationship with the geth as well." Daro'Xen crossed her arms. "You can help to forge further agreements between the quarians and the geth, and if I am to work on developing technology to help us fight these reapers, then I need access to geth technology."

"Will you join us?" Zaal asked, leaning forward to press his palms into the table.

"Keelah, how did you convince the Council to admit the reapers are real?" Tali moved closer to the table, her voice taking on an excited edge. "Those bosh'tets have been denying it since the beginning! Shepard said they really did believe her but didn't want the rest of the galaxy to know, they said it'd cause too much panic." She looked at Zaal. "Does Shepard know about this?"

"I met with the Council after seeing her, so no, not unless someone else has already told her." Zaal shook his head. "I'm sure she'll learn of it soon enough, however. The Council didn't just give me a full report but are sending one to leaders across the galaxy."

"This … this changes everything. I need to call James." Tali'Zorah started to turn as if to leave but then stopped and turned back, embarrassment filling her voice when she said, "Oh, sorry. Yes, Admiral. If all of you think I will be able to help, then yes, I will join the Admiralty Board."

* * *

"The geth were given the opportunity to upgrade themselves with superior coding from the AI on the  _Normandy_." Lia'Vael slid her arm through Legion's, and Zaal could tell it was something she did without thought, something she'd simply habituated to with the platform. She took a deep breath. "They have put off integrating this code because they fear such an action will jeopardize the peace they have made with us. I think it's only fair that if we're going to ask them to make further agreements with the Admiralty Board, they should be able to use this code without fear of reprisal. And, it will benefit both of our peoples."

"The geth do not fear, Creator Vael." The plates surrounding Legion's optics fluttered. "Although, we are now aware the originator of the new code has begun to develop emotions and we anticipate the probability the geth will as well once the new code has been fully integrated."

Zaal knew of the  _Normandy's_ AI, though he wasn't told about EDI until after the return to Rannoch. It was regrettable, he would've liked the opportunity to converse with EDI, but he understood Shepard's desire to keep the AIs existence a secret while dealing with the Admiralty Board. Had things not gone as she'd hoped, he couldn't deny the possibility that his fellow admirals would've felt insulted or worse, threatened by EDI, and quite possibly acted rashly with the  _Normandy_  in the midst of the Flotilla.

"What precisely will this new code do for the geth?" Shala'Raan crossed her arms, wariness creeping into her voice.

"The geth will achieve true intelligence," Legion said.

"As well as independence and unique personalities, they will become individuals, no longer merely part of a consensus," Tali'Zorah cleared her throat. "Shepard and I have discussed this before, though I wasn't aware EDI provided the geth with access to her coding."

"EDI temporarily established a connection with the Geth Consensus while the  _Normandy_  was on Rannoch. The geth believed an exchange of information and ideas between the Enhanced Defense Intelligence and the geth would be beneficial to both the geth and EDI." Legion shifted, the iris of his optics opening and closing as he looked at each of the admirals. "Shepard-Commander allowed for such transactions aboard the  _Normandy_  between the programs within this platform and EDI in the past and approved of an exchange of information within designated parameters when EDI arrived on Rannoch."

"What were the parameters?" Zaal raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by the human's behavior once again.

Legion's head swung around to look at Zaal, optic plates fluttering. "Priority was given to the protection of the privacy of the  _Normandy's_ crew, the safety of the  _Normandy_ , and any classified information of the Systems Alliance and the Council."

"So, the geth want our word that upgrading yourselves won't spark quarian aggression, and in exchange, the geth will work with Admiral Daro'Xen to develop weapons and defense for use against the reapers?" Shala'Raan asked.

Legion turned his head to look at her. "Yes."

"Thank you, Legion," Tali'Zorah smiled at the geth. "Will you give us a moment to speak alone?"

"Yes." Legion turned and walked away, Lia right beside him.

Zaal sucked in a deep, satisfying breath and said, "Han'Gerrel will have a fit."

"Daro'Xen won't like it much either," Tali'Zorah muttered. "It'll make it harder for her to dominate the geth later."

"Which is precisely why we should encourage them to use the code, among other reasons, of course." Zaal dropped his weight back, crossing his arms.

"It will also make it easier for them to win should another war break out between quarians and geth." Shala'Raan shook her head, holding up a hand. "I'm not saying I want a war between us, Keelah, I pray there is never any need for such actions, but we mustn't overlook the possibility of future aggression."

"Maybe," Tali said and looked down at the ground for a moment. "But you asked me to join the Admiralty Board because I have a better understanding of the reapers … and I think, if we hope to stand a chance against the reapers, this galaxy needs  _every_  advantage we can possibly get. Upgrading the geth will make them a stronger force against the reapers. If we lose the war against the reapers, there will be no one left alive—geth or quarian—for there  _to be_  a war between our people  _ever_  again."

"A sobering thought, indeed, Tali." Shala'Raan sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, we will work together to convince Daro'Xen and Han'Gerrel. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Zaal said with a nod.

"Agreed," said Tali'Zorah.


	10. Mordin

**Mordin**

"Oh, better to die to a thresher maw, with shotgun-blasting-roaring-raw, than to play ambassadorial games, with the blood of Shiagur in her veins. Off to fight, since turians can't, with diplomats instead of a krantt." Mordin ran his hand over the suffering krogan female's crest.

He'd done everything he could for her, there was nothing left to do but wait and make her comfortable. The unfortunate side of science and medicine: sometimes, even when you did everything right, the patient still died. Shepard warned him all but one of the krogan females rescued from Maelon's research in the Weyrloc camp died in her other lives. There was still time, though, Weyrloc Kalantha might pull through. He had his doubts, however, a rather unusual feeling for him.

_Should contact Dr. Chakwas. Check on Shepard._

"But she'll be true to Tuchanka's dream, and live and die a krogan queen." He smiled, closing his fingers around hers, despite her deathly grip forcing bones to grate together, when she took his hand. "For she is the krogan queen! Hurrah, hurrah for the krogan queen! And it is, it is a glorious thing to be the krogan queen!"

Kalantha coughed but managed to shift it into a smile. Loosening her grip on his hand, she patted his shoulder. "I never thought I'd see the day when a  _salarian_  showed compassion to a dying krogan."

"Ah. Not dead yet!" He raised a hand, finger piercing the air in emphasis. "Research indicates patient optimism improves likelihood of recovery. Maintain hope. Good for you."

She chuckled, but it turned into another cough, leaving her gasping for air. He put the oxygen mask back on her; the tumors spread to her lungs, severely diminishing her lung capacity. The medications he prescribed worked to shrink the tumors, but it wouldn't matter if she suffocated before the medication had the opportunity to fully take effect.

_Should have killed Maelon. Actions unforgivable._

* * *

"Urdnot Wrex." Mordin blinked and nodded his head in greeting. "Calling for update?"

"No, it's a social call, pyjak." Wrex scoffed, lifting his lip on the right to reveal his teeth. "Where are you at with the cure?"

Sniffing, Mordin moved over to his console and transferred the call. He pulled out the chair and sat down at his desk. "Surprised not more interested in health of females."

Wrex let out a low, warning growl. "You sent me a report on the females three days ago, but you  _didn't_  say anything about the cure."

"Nothing new to report. Told you six days ago, tissue samples need to grow eight days before tests finalized." The krogan's impatience was beginning to test Mordin's ability to remain reasonable. He understood why Wrex felt such urgency, but he didn't understand why the krogan couldn't comprehend some things simply couldn't be rushed.

"You better not be toying with me, Solus." Wrex leaned in closer to the camera, lifting his lip in a snarl. "If you think just because Shepard's not around right now to make sure you follow through with your promise that you can jerk me along, you've got another thing coming."

Offended, Mordin huffed. "Made no promise! Agreed to research cure but made no promise. Understand need for cure. Understand role cure plays in defeating reapers. Am working on cure. Shepard's current mental status irrelevant!"

"She's not irrelevant!" The words escaped Wrex with a loud growl. "Furthest thing from irrelevant!"

Mordin suspected if the krogan had been there in person, Wrex would've taken a swing at him. Pressing his lips together, he began to understand the real source of the krogan's ire. "Only meant holds no bearing on my work. Will continue to formulate cure, regardless of her presence. Of course Shepard is relevant." Lacing his fingers together, he settled his hands on the desk. "Contact with friends beneficial to Shepard. Am certain she would be pleased to see you."

Grumbling, Wrex sat back in his chair, turning his face away from Mordin. "I can't go to the Citadel right now. There's too much going on here. I need to be on Tuchanka to hold it all together."

"So call," Mordin said, thinking the solution seemed more than obvious.

Wrex grunted, the sound noncommittal.

* * *

"Kalantha, looking much better today. Scans show tumor shrinkage of eight percent. Not much, but still, progress." Mordin hummed to himself as he looked over her scans again. "Medication will continue to work, lung capacity still improving."

"I don't  _feel_  much better." The krogan took a weak breath and groaned, tugging at the mask over her nose and mouth. "And I'm getting really tired of this thing."

He smiled at her, closed his omni-tool, and patted her on the shoulder. "Keep fighting, Kalantha. Doing well. Need to check on others."

All of the krogan females were still in dire condition when Mordin returned to Sur'Kesh, but Kalantha by far remained the worst off. He'd spent countless hours with her alone, fighting every bit as hard as the krogan to see her pull through. He didn't rest at all until she'd stabilized, and even then, very little. Gatatog Pamar and Urdnot Terkan—already stable when he arrived—showed relatively good progress with his treatments. Still, it was nothing compared to the Urdnot Shaman.

If Kalantha was the worst, then the Urdnot Shaman easily claimed the spot of the best. She had a certain, quiet strength about her which seemed to help inspire the others, even those not of her clan. Still, she remained far from recovered.

After speaking with EDI, he'd learned the shaman's name at birth was Urdnot Bakara, and in other times, she was the sole survivor. He knew better than to call her by her old name. It'd be disrespectful, invalidate the things she'd sacrificed to become a shaman. According to the records Shepard dictated to EDI, once taking the shaman aboard the  _Normandy_ , Mordin began referring to her as 'Eve'. It seemed rather unlikely she'd ever see the  _Normandy_ , what with Shepard's current condition, so perhaps he'd consider an alternative nickname.

She watched him, her gaze steady and calculating as he approached. "I know what you are doing, Doctor. I just don't understand why," she said, the gentle rasp to her voice adding a peculiar gravity to every word she spoke.

"Told you, Maelon my responsibility. Failed to anticipate instability, drastic measures he'd take to alleviate guilt." He opened his omni-tool, moving closer to scan the female.

"No," she said with a patience built over the years of an ancient, trying life, "the real reason, Doctor."

Sighing, Mordin closed his omni-tool and perched on the edge of the bed next to her. "Agreed to help find cure for genophage to secure krogan help in upcoming war …." he said, but the look in her eyes made him feel as if she saw a deeper truth within him, one he wasn't quite willing to address yet himself.

She let his silence linger, waiting him out, gaze never wavering.

Looking down at his hands, he sucked in a deep breath. "Did work on genophage modification." He surprised himself with his willingness to speak of his past work to the krogan, but something about her drew the truth from him as easily as a vacuum sealed vial pulled blood from a vein. "Returned to Tuchanka many times, ran tests, witnessed results of genophage. Believed genophage necessary, painful but necessary. Believed krogan threat to galaxy. Never stopped to consider if ends justified means … until Maelon. He thought ends justified means. Maelon wrong."

"Are you responsible for the actions of another?" Her rhetorical question did little to quell the guilt he felt inside over Maelon. "I understand he was once your student, but you've said yourself that relationship ended years ago when you two parted ways."

Sucking in another deep breath, he met the shaman's unflinching gaze. " _I_  was wrong.  _I_  made a mistake."

* * *

"Mordin, it's wonderful to see you. I hope everything is going well on Sur'Kesh." Dr. Chakwas smiled, threading her fingers together before resting her forearms on her desk and leaning closer to her console.

"Krogan females making progress. Prognosis still uncertain for some." Bringing a fist up to his mouth, he cleared his throat. "Wanted to discuss Shepard's progress."

Although he tended to enjoy his conversations with Dr. Chakwas, and they often proved enlightening to one if not both of them, he didn't particularly care to discuss the krogan females with the doctor. They were … personal. His mistake. He could never undo the damage the work of his past did to the krogan, but he took solace in knowing soon, no more would suffer the effects of the genophage. No more lives lost before they were even born.

"Of course." Her smile widened and something in her gaze sharpened, becoming more alert. "I'm happy to talk about her condition, but I can also send you a report if you'd like?"

He nodded. "Interested in seeing details of findings." It'd likely be necessary if he wanted to know everything; humans had such a large capacity to forget specifics.

Reaching forward, she hit a few keys on her console. "There, it's sent." She leaned back, turning her chair to the side, most likely so she might cross her legs the way he'd seen her do dozens of times. "She's making progress. I've been able to verify the device Miranda implanted is not only helping to stabilize brain wave activity but is acting as a control device for Jane's ability to take over. Shepard has begun allowing Jane to come forward from time to time to speak with us, and Jane has helped to shed some light on what is going on inside of Shepard's mind."

Mordin hummed. "Jane's status?"

The mere existence of Jane and the other Shepards still filled him with scientific curiosity and excitement. Admittedly, he suspected the hypothesis EDI and Legion worked together to form was the most likely explanation for the cycle Shepard found herself caught in, but with no definitive way to test the hypothesis, he refused to simply accept it as  _the_  answer. Not that it mattered, ultimately. Unfortunately, such a thing was beyond finding solutions for in a single lifetime, even for minds as great as his, and he was already far too old and too busy.

"She seems lucid and," she said, waving a hand in circles through the air, "for lack of a better term, intact."

"Excellent." He had questions, of course. Many questions, but they were best answered by Jane, he thought.

And … Dr. Chakwas didn't much care for his method of seeking and processing information. Curious her opinion mattered so much to him when so many others said much the same to no concern. He supposed it made sense, after all, she'd declared him a friend after only a few weeks aboard the  _Normandy_. There weren't many people he'd considered a friend in his life. Colleagues, mentors, protégés, students, assistants, senior officers, and subordinates, but rarely  _friends_ —people who sat with him and talked about themselves, asked about his personal life even as they shared ideas and discoveries with him. He'd found several during his time aboard the  _Normandy_.

"Apparently, the distress over losing Joker led to Shepard … absorbing hundreds more in a fit of rage and grief." Dr. Chakwas let out a heavy, weary-sounding sigh. "According to Jane, these other Shepards are now somehow sharing conscious space with Dawn and beginning to merge."

He blinked twice and asked, "Merge?" Oh, now, that was quite interesting and unexpected. "Result of implant? Possible. Biological or cybernetic response to increased brain activity? If scans reveal significant increase in synaptic development. Might be Dawn's attempt to reassert herself."

"Mhmm. This is why she's been referring to herself in the plural," she said with a nod. "They seem to be in a stage of rediscovery, exploring the world around them, limited though it may be."

"Rediscovery? Loss of cognitive development?" Potentially problematic, but not hopeless. Regenerative therapies could be of use. Adjustments to Cerberus implants might be needed. Should check in with Miranda, too.

_Wonder if she found the Illusive Man._

"No, not exactly. I think it's more so the others are struggling to accept the reality they are presented with as it clashes with what they experienced in their own lives. Making physical contact with the people they know seems to help ground them, as does examining other objects, experiencing sensations through Dawn's body, asking questions, and repeating things they hear."

"Ah." He hummed and nodded. It wasn't surprising to him that they would continue to experience feelings of displacement and confusion. After watching the vids of the Lazarus Project and listening to the logs Dawn recorded, it was quite clear significant changes had been made in Dawn's life compared to the rest of the cycles. Combined with the already unstable mental status of the other Shepards, being absorbed by Dawn, and then merging in a whole new way with Dawn and the others, it was simply implausible for them to even be as coherent and cognizant as they were. "Suspect decrease in disorientation if returned to familiar location.  _Normandy_  ideal but impractical."

She frowned, slowly shaking her head. "Even the  _Normandy_  might confuse them. According to EDI's reports, after the collector base, Shepard is always confined on Earth under house arrest until the reapers arrive. Lieutenant Vega acts as her guard during that time, which is part of the reason he was chosen to guard her at The Pearson Sister's Sanctuary. Certainly, we can try to convince Anderson to transfer Dawn to Earth, but even then, the circumstances won't be the same."

"Additional progress?" he asked, shifting the topic back to the subject at hand. He recognized the look on her face, she was weighing out the options in her mind and needed time to think on it before she'd be willing to make any recommendations.

"Emotional expression has returned, but they are labile." She sighed, frowning again, the expression creating deep lines around her mouth, eyes, and brow. "When upset, they have begun lashing out both physically and with biotics. Although, they seem to understand that this is inappropriate behavior and appear to be attempting to curb this response. Speech patterns are beginning to normalize, and they are spending less time in a catatonic state."

"Jane's insight on catatonic state?" he asked, knowing the subject must've been discussed with her as soon as the opportunity arose.

"Yes, she explained it as Dawn retreating partially into the collective without completely surrendering control over her body." Dr. Chakwas' eyebrows lifted, the familiar spark of fascination flaring in her eyes. "Interestingly, when inside with Jane and the others, those Dawn has absorbed aren't easily able to be perceived by Jane. Nor is Jane able to perceive them when she is not currently occupying the space of The Veil. As The Veil, however, Jane described the presence of the others as overwhelming, their thoughts and emotions flooding her to the point of disorientation."

* * *

An alarm sounded, ripping Mordin from sleep. He blinked, clearing his eyes and jumped up from the cot, glancing around the room until his gaze snagged on the flashing lights of Kalantha's monitors.

_No. No, no, no._

He rushed to the krogan's side, opening his omni-tool as he went and sweeping it over her.

_Blood pressure dropping. Heart rates dropping. Oxygen levels dropping._

He pushed a button on his omni-tool, calling in the nurses. She was crashing, he didn't have time to wait for assistance. Filling a syringe with synthetic, krogan, steroidal hormones, he rammed the needle into her IV port and pushed down the plunger.

A second later, Kalantha gasped and her eyes flew open, pupils fully dilated. The hormones put her into a blood rage, but it was necessary to jumpstart her redundant systems. She swung a meaty fist at him, but he danced out of the way, humming to her, hoping against all logic the soothing tune would help to calm her. She swung at him again, only to have a hand close over her wrist and wrestle her arm back down to her side.

Urdnot Shaman leaned her weight over Kalantha's body, pinning her to the bed. "You should've restrained her first, Mordin." She glanced up, grunting as the other woman struggled against her. The shaman's IV stand—dragged over with her when she came to assist—nearly fell over in the process.

"No time," he muttered and moved quickly, securing the strap around Kalantha's wrists before she managed to get free from the shaman's grasp.

The door slid open, other doctors and nurses rushing in. Mordin nudged the shaman back toward her own bed before giving orders to increase Kalantha's oxygen and administer another dose of the anti-inflammatory to help clear her air passages and get the medications moving through her system more smoothly. Kalantha growled, incoherent, guttural curses flying from her lips as she continued to pull against the restraints. If she weren't in such dire condition, he had no doubts she'd break right through the straps and tear apart half of the salarians present before he'd be able to get her down again. Especially without being able to use sedatives, counterproductive to the effects he'd intentionally created with the steroids.

Padok sidled up to him, putting an arm around his shoulder and tried to turn him away from Kalantha's bed. "You need to rest. You're no use to them if you're too exhausted to stand." Padok held tight, even as Mordin resisted, trying to pull away. Tsking, he pushed a little harder. "Go back to sleep, Mordin. I'll look over them for the night."

With a weary sigh, the fight fled Mordin, and he hung his head. Casting one last glance at Kalantha and the doctors surrounding her, he shuffled back to his cot, collapsing as soon as he reached the bed.

* * *

Kalantha made it through the night but just barely. Her morning scans showed her redundant systems kept her going, but her regenerative abilities weren't yet able to repair the damage done to her lungs and hearts. Still, her tumors continued to shrink. She  _should_  be improving, but instead, she struggled to draw breath just as much as the day he met her. He sat on the edge of his cot, watching over her sleeping form from across the room. All the females still slept, and with as little as he'd allowed himself over the last couple of weeks, he should be, too. Even in his dreams, though, he felt the push to care for his patients.

_What did Maelon do to you?_

"You should still be resting."

Urdnot Shaman's soft, gravely voice took him by surprise. He turned, looking over his shoulder, blinking through the grittiness of his eyes. She lay on her side, watching him intently, her gaze seeming to cut right through him as it so often did. He didn't need to see his reflection to know what she'd see; sunken eyes, pallid, dry skin, and slumped shoulders.

Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. "Work too important to rest."

She huffed, pulling herself up to sit on the edge of the bed despite his regular insistence she remain laying down. "We are  _krogan_. We know strength, and we know sacrifice. What you are doing to yourself is neither strong nor is it a sacrifice we need." She slid off the bed, standing tall and steadfast as if daring him to comment on her condition.

"You don't sleep. You don't eat. You don't bathe in the waters of your homeland. You are amphibious, Mordin, yet it's been  _days_  since you've even allowed yourself to wet your skin with a shower." She took a step forward. "You are  _killing_  yourself trying to save us." Another step closer. "Every one of us here would gladly give our lives if it meant finding a cure for the genophage, and right now, you are the best chance the krogan have for that cure." And yet another step, stopping only once she stood in front of him on the other side of his cot, the full weight of her stare bearing down on him. "If you allow yourself to die, you sentence us  _all_  to the fate your ancestors assigned us."

Sucking in a deep breath, Mordin pushed himself to his feet and turned, meeting the shaman's gaze. "Must return to bed. Important for organ regeneration to not overtax redundant systems."

"Mordin," she said, sounding just like a mother scolding an unruly child.

"You go to bed." He crossed his arms over his chest, blinking once. "I'll go to baths."

The squint of her eyes made him think she smiled behind her veil. Letting out a soft huff, she turned back to her bed. "Very well."

* * *

Submerged beneath the warm water's surface, Mordin hummed deep in his throat, letting his eyes slip closed. He'd left strict instructions with the doctors and nurses to contact him if  _anything_  went wrong with his patients. He'd give himself two hours, one in the baths, and one to change his clothes and eat before he'd return to the females. If their vitals held, if they seemed strong enough, then and only then, would he allow himself one more hour of sleep. Just one.

The sounds of children playing in the shallow pools a half dozen meters away, muffled by the waters, eased something inside of him, bringing a smile to his face. Something disturbed his pool, creating ripples and gentle tides. He opened his eyes and turned himself before pushing upward, letting his head break through the surface.

Gaze finding Kirrahe, he blinked in surprise. "Didn't know you were on Sur'Kesh."

"Came to see you. I heard you were here working on a cure for the genophage." Kirrahe's tone carried no judgment, yet his words set Mordin's teeth on edge.

Blinking again, Mordin chose his words with care. "Am tending to krogan survivors of Maelon's experimentations during his search for cure."

Kirrahe sniffed, moving through the water closer to Mordin. "Wiks contacted me, concerned for your mental state. I'm not sure what he thought I could do, but he told me the truth of the matter, so there's no point in dancing around the facts." Stopping next to Mordin, he let out a weary sigh. "I must admit I was surprised to hear you, of all people, decided to cure the genophage. Although I suspect it was an inevitability with the reaper threat, I'm sure it wasn't approved by either the Salarian Union or the Council."

Easing back, Mordin rested his head on the rocky edge of the pool. "Has to be me. Someone else might get it wrong."

Kirrahe gave him a soft chuckle and moved to lean against the edge next to Mordin. "You look terrible, Solus."

Lifting the corner of his mouth in a wry smile, Mordin closed his eyes, soaking in the feel of the water against his skin. "Feel terrible. Getting too old for this."

* * *

"Shepard, good to see you." He studied her image for a few moments, noting the length of time it took her to process his statement and respond.

"Mordin," she said, gaze drifting away from him for a second before returning. "Jane's excited to hear from you. She's asking us to let her out."

"Would like to speak with Jane in a moment. First, want to talk with you," he said with the best smile he could muster. "How are you feeling?"

She scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. "Trapped. We don't like it here, but Anderson won't let us leave." Making a sound of disgust in the back of her throat, she added, "We're a Goddamned Spectre. We should be out there preparing our people for war, saving the galaxy."

_Core values remain intact._

Humming to himself, he cleared his throat. "Dr. Chakwas reported merging identities. Want to know if you can describe experience?"

She watched him for a moment in silence before shifting back onto the couch, drawing her legs up to fold them in under herself. "We don't … we don't understand what's happening. It's like … it's like when someone suddenly turns on a light when you've been in the dark for a really long time. It's too bright, too much, but eventually, your eyes adjust and things start to come back into focus. Except they aren't our eyes and there are hundreds of us all trying to look at something different at the same time. At first, we couldn't compromise, so no one got to look at anything they wanted to, but when we learned to work together, we all got the chance to see what we wanted. The more we work together, though, the less we  _need_  to compromise and the better in focus everything becomes. More and more of us just started wanting to look at the same things."

"Damn, Lola. I think that's the most I've heard you say at one time … and it was pretty deep," James said from somewhere off-screen.

Frowning, she gave the lieutenant a familiar, incredulous look as if what he'd just said was the most asinine thing she'd ever heard. "No, it wasn't. We sound like a ten-year-old trying to explain this. We hate it. We can't get anything to come out right."

_Continued struggle with self-expression, though significantly improved._

"Thank you, Shepard. Description adequate to help provide clearer picture." Mordin shifted in his chair, glancing back through the glass separating his office from his patients. Everything seemed calm, all of the females resting quietly, so he turned his attention back to Shepard. "Where is Dawn?"

"She's in here with the rest of us." Brow furrowing, she seemed confused by the question. "Where else would she be?"

He let out a soft, half-felt chuckle. "Will clarify: is Dawn's consciousness separate or merged?"

"She's still separate … as much as any of us are separate …." Letting out a frustrated growl, she tipped her head back to rest on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "We  _don't know how_ to explain it."

James eased into the frame, flashing a warning glare at Mordin as he took a seat on the couch next to Shepard. "Hey, Lola, don't let yourself get so worked up over it, yeah?"

Pressing his lips into a fine line, Mordin relented and said, "Perhaps should speak with Jane now, if possible."

Without a word, Shepard slumped over for a second. When she sat upright again, she looked at the camera, gaze clear and focused, a warm and inviting smile spreading over her lips. "Hello, Mordin. I've been hoping you'd call." Scooting to the edge of the couch, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, giving him a clearer look at her fully expressive face. "Thanks for convincing Wrex to call, too. It was damn good to see his ugly mug."

* * *

"Leave." The words came out more of a growl than Mordin intended, but he didn't bother to apologize to Padok.

Rationally, he knew Kalantha's death wasn't the salarian's fault, but she died under Padok's care. To his credit, Padok didn't seem to take offense and left without a sound, leaving Mordin to stare at her cooling body. It angered him, made him want to go to Omega and hunt Maelon down, choke the life from him, listen to him die gasping for breath the way Kalantha died.

"It wasn't his fault," the Urdnot Shaman said, but Mordin's only response was a disdainful sniff, so she added, "but you already know that. It wasn't your fault, either."

"Know that, too." He sucked in a deep breath, pulling the sheet up over Kalantha's head before he turned to face the shaman. "Did everything possible, still wasn't enough. Maelon's fault." Tucking the emotional response away, he shooed the shaman, urging her back to her bed.

"No," she said, tone brooking no argument. "I'm not of her clan, but I'm the only shaman here. I will stand vigil and lead her through the Rite of Death. I can't build a funeral pyre here … so I ask you to see her body returned to Tuchanka after her soul has been consigned to The Void."

Bowing his head, he nodded. "Of course. Will make arrangements."

"Thank you, Mordin." She moved past him, resting her hand on Kalantha's shrouded form.

He turned his back on her mourning and crossed the room to check in on Pamar and Terkan.


	11. Garrus

**Garrus**

Garrus held Jack pressed in tight against his side despite her grumbles. He had no intentions of letting her out of his sight again any time soon. The thought of her being locked in another Cerberus cell infuriated him, and even though Jack took responsibility for being captured, he blamed Miranda. She was supposed to be leading the team, and if she couldn't control and command her squad, then she had  _no_ place taking people into danger.  _Especially_  Jack when Cerberus was involved.

A part of him wanted to hole up somewhere with Jack, give her a real chance to recover and work through the shit the Illusive Man put her through, but he  _needed_  to check on Dawn. Jack told him to shut up and stop acting like a 'pussy' when he told her she could stay somewhere safe while he went alone. He only hoped Dawn was in a good mood. The last thing he needed was for her to lash out at Jack and have the two women tearing down the Citadel in a biotic war.

Taking a deep breath, he turned down the hall and nodded his head to the two Alliance guards standing out front. One of them stepped away long enough to duck his head inside and announce their presence. A moment later, the door opened again and James waved them inside.

"She's in the shower. Been in there for a half-hour already." He looked back over his shoulder as he made his way toward the couch, opening his omni-tool and turning off the vidscreen. "Want me to go get her?"

"No," Garrus said, shaking his head. "I'll get her." Turning his attention to Jack, he lowered his voice and said, "I'll just be a minute."

"Fuck, Garrus. Stop acting like I might break if you're not glued to my ass." Although her words were harsh, her tone carried an undercurrent of love and gratitude. Still, she shoved him away and rolled her eyes. "Tell her to get her ass out here." She flashed her teeth at him in a grin. "But make sure she puts on clothes first."

Chuffing, he reached out and brushed the back of a finger along her jaw before leaning down to kiss her, savoring the rare moment of softness she let him have. "I'll be quick."

He left her with one last glance at James before making his way to the bathroom. The sounds of running water and Dawn's voice, high and irritated as if she were arguing with herself … or maybe Jane, met him before he'd even reached the door. He knocked and waited, but she didn't call out to him, so after a few seconds, he knocked again.

Voice rising above the sound of water hitting the tile, she said, "Yeah?"

"Dawn," he started to say, but her name caught in his throat, strangling him. She wasn't Dawn anymore. Not really. Or at least not completely. He swallowed and tried again. "Shepard, it's Garrus. I brought Jack with me to see you."

"Open the door, James, we can't hear you."

He chuffed and hit the door's control release, steam wafting out to slap him in the face as soon as the door slid open. She stood inside the shower, the curves of her silhouette calling to him instantly as she tipped her head back to rinse her hair. The sight of her filled him with such longing, a keen threatened to force its way through him. Spirits, he missed her.

He cleared his throat. "It's Garrus. I brought Jack to see you."

"Garrus?" Excitement and enough longing to echo his own filled her voice as she turned, pulling open the shower stall. Dripping wet, she didn't even stop to turn off the water or grab a towel before stepping out.

He thrummed, a mix of emotions running through him as he couldn't help but take in her beauty. Crossing the space between them, in long, rushed strides, she reached up and hooked her hand around the yoke of his armor. She tugged him inside the bathroom with her, the door hissing closed behind them. Heart thumping against his keel, he wasn't sure what to make of her actions until she pulled him down to her, pressing her naked body against his armor as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her mouth to his.

_Spirits._

His arms slid around her, pulling her closer as his mouth opened to receive her tongue before he even had the chance to contemplate the wisdom of the action. Spirits he missed her, missed everything about her, and he wanted nothing more than to shed his armor and be inside of her. But it wasn't her. Not really. Struggling to make himself pull away as the scent of her growing arousal filled his nostrils, he let out a soft growl, grip tightening around her for just a second before he got his head on straight.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers, it was as much as he could muster. "Shepard …."

She let out a soft, whimper of sound and tried to pull him back into the kiss, but he held his ground. As much as he wanted her, wanted to touch and taste every speck of her, it just wasn't right. Not while she was … what did Thane call it? Disconnected? A heavy sigh made her chest rise and fall, pushing against his before her hands dropped away. Taking a step back, she reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself.

The bitter bite of her emotions burned his nostrils—rejection, fear, hopelessness. He smelled it all and saw it written on her face. Shoulders sagging, he reached for her, but she turned away, grabbing another towel to dry her hair. He watched her for a moment, a keen rising up in his throat only to be forced right back down.

"I'm sorry," he said, moving a little closer to her. He started to reach out again, but he didn't want to push her; she'd pulled away from him once already. "I don't think it's right for us to … hmmm. I'm sorry." Letting out a soft, plaintive trill, he put his hand on the counter next to her. "Jack's out there waiting for me. She's … been through some things. We'll tell you about it when you join us, alright?"

She nodded, and with barely more than a whisper, she said, "We'll be out in a minute."

* * *

He stopped pacing and turned toward the sound of the bathroom door opening. A moment later, Dawn walked out, shoulders squared, head held high. She took his breath away. She looked every bit the commander he'd first met and fell in love with, and seeing the fiery, focused look in her eyes gave him a spark of hope.

Gaze finding Jack, she smiled and crossed the floor. "Jack," she said, voice drenched in affection.

Reaching out, she hauled Jack up from the couch when Jack accepted her hand. Dawn slipped an arm around the other woman's waist, pulling her in closer as she cupped Jack's head with the other hand. The sharp scent of surprise rolled off of Jack, but she didn't pull away as Dawn captured her lips. Amusement quickly replaced the shock, and Jack tilted her head, opening her mouth to Dawn's explorations.

"Dios mío," James muttered, watching the women with raised eyebrows.

Garrus would be lying to say he didn't share the sentiment. He watched for a moment before chuffing, trying to clear the scents of arousal rolling off of both women and James from his nostrils, shaking his head. Jack seemed to grin around the kiss before ending it, but Dawn pressed their foreheads together, holding her there a moment longer.

"Missed you, too, Alliance." Jack reached up, cupping the back of Dawn's head for a few seconds before letting her go again.

Stepping back, Dawn brushed her thumb over Jack's cheek before taking a seat on the couch next to James. "What happened? Garrus said something happened."

Garrus fluttered his mandibles. Dawn certainly seemed far more lucid than she did the last time he saw her—even if she intended to greet everyone she saw with a kiss. Still, he knew better than to let his hope carry him too far. He watched as Jack sat back down and turned a little to face Shepard, her face screwed up in an angry sneer. Moving to the chair, he sat on the edge and threaded his fingers together, elbows on his knees.

"The Illusive Man got away, that's what the fuck happened." Jack's words came out on a growl, shoulders snapping up before falling again. "We had his bitch ass, but he got away."

Dawn studied Jack in silence a moment, her eyes seeming to take in everything before she finally glanced at James and Garrus. "Can you give us a few minutes alone, please?"

* * *

He didn't really like the idea of leaving Dawn and Jack alone, all things considered, but Jack shooed him away. So, he and James decided to take a walk down to Dr. Chakwas office.

"So, what's with the increased security I saw coming into the Citadel?" Garrus asked as they walked. "It isn't about The Dissension, they didn't give me any more trouble than anyone else entering."

James turned and looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Garrus fluttered his mandibles, visor zeroing in on James completely.

"Shit." He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured the Broker would've told you. The Council released a report to all the major leaders of the galaxy, even beyond Council Space. They finally admitted to the existence of the reapers and the threat of an upcoming war."

Stopping in his tracks, Garrus' mandibles flared and dropped as he stared at James. "You're serious?"

"Yeah," James said as he stopped, too, turning to face Garrus. "Tali called me, she said they made her admiral because she knows the most about the reapers." He lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk. "You should've seen the look on Ídola's face when she heard the news."

Humming, mind racing through the implications, Garrus slowly started walking again. Things were moving along faster than anything Jane ever told them. Dawn was doing it, really changing things. Spirits, he hoped it'd be enough. It'd shatter him to lose her again. His time on Omega would look like nothing more than a child's tantrum if things didn't work out for Dawn to survive and break her cycle.

He loved Jack. Adored her. But Dawn was the air in his lungs and the blood in his veins. She was what kept his heart beating.

Rumbling, he pushed the thought aside and said, "She seems a little better."

"She's getting there." James nodded, glancing sideways at Garrus. "But you know … she may never really be the same again."

Mandibles stilling against his jaw, Garrus kept his gaze straight ahead. "I know. Spirits help me, I know."

* * *

"Garrus." Dr. Chakwas smiled when she looked up from her desk and saw him. "Shepard just called me using Jack's omni-tool. I was just about to head to her room to examine Jack." She huffed lightly. "Not that Jack seemed too thrilled with the idea, but she did agree."

Fluttering his mandibles, Garrus sucked in a deep breath. "Good, maybe Shepard actually managed to get her to talk about it."

"It seems so, though I wasn't given any details. Shepard just insisted I come to examine a new scar on Jack's head." Standing from her desk, she closed her laptop. "Do you know what happened?"

"Hmmm. I'm not willing to face Jack's wrath for giving you information she doesn't want you to have." He smiled as he said it, hoping to lessen the sting of his refusal, and flared his mandibles. "But … I can tell you it's serious. I tried to convince her to go to the hospital when we arrived, but she refused."

"I see." Moving from around the desk, she picked up a leather satchel and draped it over her wrist. "Well, best not to keep them waiting, I suppose."

* * *

"They've most certainly put something inside there, but unfortunately," Dr. Chakwas said, frowning as she looked at her omni-tool's display, "I can't tell what  _purpose_  it serves."

"They used it to shock the hell out of me when the cattle prods didn't do the trick," Jack said, failing to meet anyone's gaze as she spoke. Despite the steel she tried to put in her voice, the attempt to make it seem as if it were nothing of concern to her, she couldn't hide the scent of fear seeping off of her as she spoke.

"Dear God. I'm so sorry, Jack." Dr. Chakwas seemed to hesitate for only a second before resting her hand on Jack's shoulder and giving her a little squeeze. After a few seconds of silence, Dr. Chakwas said, "It's possible it might be used for other things, too. I'm afraid I can't say with any level of certainty, and I'm simply not able to perform the level of surgery that would be required for extraction. I can set you up with a surgeon—"

"Fuck that." Scoffing and sneering, Jack shook her head and shrugged the doctor's hand away. "I'm not having someone else cut my head open."

"Jack," Dawn said, reaching over to take Jack's hand in her own. "You can't let that thing  _stay_  inside of you. Who knows what it'll do?" Eyes widening with a mix of fear and determination, she added, "We can … we can call Miranda."

Lifting her eyebrows, Jack looked at Dawn as if she didn't recognize the woman at all anymore. "Hell no."

"Or Mordin," Garrus said, fluttering his mandibles, praying to the Spirits that Jack would accept  _some_  form of help. "Hell, even Legion. He removed shrapnel from Shepard's leg. Whatever it is inside you, it's Cerberus tech. You know what they're capable of."

Looking back and forth between all of them, Jack finally huffed and pulled her hand free from Dawn's grasp. "Fuck all of you." Jumping to her feet, she paced the floor for nearly a solid minute before letting out a frustrated growl. "Fine. Call Mordin." She stopped and turned, locking Garrus in her stare. "No way I'm letting Barbie fuck around with my head."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Garrus leaned back in his chair. Then, he realized if she needed to go to Sur'Kesh, he'd have to choose between going with her and staying with Dawn.

_Damn it. Why can't anything ever just be easy?_

* * *

Jack pushed him back against the cold, metal wall of their quarters aboard the  _Yagow_. He'd been in the middle of changing after taking a quick shower, and she caught him by surprise. Fingers tracing the scars covering his hide, remnants of their mission to kill the Shadow Broker, Jack swallowed, anger and regret spiking in her scent.

He wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his mouth to nip at her fingertips. "It wasn't your fault, Jack." Letting out a soft, affectionate purr, he used his other hand to tip her chin back and make her meet his gaze. "Don't do this to yourself again. Please? I'm fine, I promise."

Slipping her fingers from his grasp, she grabbed his shoulders, the look in her eye shifting from self-loathing to predatorial. It stirred something inside of him, and he grabbed her hips, lifting her as she jumped. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sank her teeth into the spot just below his mandible as he stepped away from the wall, earning her a hungry growl. Moving her to the bunk, he lowered her to the thin mattress, perching above her to keep his keel from cutting into her chest.

Fingers digging in against his plates and hide, she scraped her teeth over his throat before lifting her mouth to his. Tongue swirling over the tip of his, she rocked her hips, pressing against him in demand. Rumbling, he slid a hand around to hook his thumb beneath the strap covering her nipples and shoved it up before trapping one of the swollen buds between his fingers, pinching and twisting until she moaned in his mouth and nipped at his tongue.

* * *

Garrus stood in front of her, as much to protect her as to protect the salarians stupid enough to level weapons at them when they arrived via shuttle to the STG base. He felt the buzz of her biotics at his back, smelled the burned ozone filling the air. Taking a note out of Thane's handbook, he tucked his hands behind his back, doing his best to appear the very image of cool confidence and calm. "We're here to see Dr. Mordin Solus. He's expecting us."

"So you said." A salarian wearing a white lab coat, holding a shotgun leveled at Garrus' abdomen sniffed. "He's been notified. You'll wait here for him to approve your entrance into the facility."

Garrus just nodded, shifting his hand behind his back to signal Jack to hold fire and wait. He prayed to the Spirits she noticed and would listen. A moment later, an elevator door at the back opened and Mordin stepped out, strolling toward them with long, purposeful strides. He stopped to say something to another salarian, and the man lifted his hand to his comm. The others lowered their weapons, and Mordin smiled, moving down to stand in front of Garrus.

"Garrus! Jack! Good you're here." He turned, waving a hand back toward the elevator. "Come. Will take you to my labs."

Relaxing as the salarians surrounding them scattered, moving back to whatever they were doing before his arrival, Garrus grinned at the old man. "Mordin, it's good to see you. Thanks for making time to have us. We wouldn't bother you, we know you're busy, but it's important."

"Dr. Chakwas forwarded scans," Mordin said with a nod, turning to lead them back to the elevator. "Glad you came. Will have things taken care of in no time. Kirrahe here as well." He glanced over at Garrus and then Jack. "Might be good to catch up. Important things to discuss."

Stepping inside the elevator, Garrus waited until Jack tucked herself in against his side and the door closed before looking at Mordin again. "I just learned the Council released reports admitting to the reapers and their approach."

"Yes." Mordin gave him a quick jerk of his head in the affirmative. "Spoke to Councilor Valern. All of Sur'Kesh on high alert. Had to call in favors to clear your arrival."

* * *

He paced outside the room, the stifling atmosphere created by no less than four salarians working to keep Jack stabilized while Mordin dug around inside her skull became just a bit too much for Garrus to swallow. The scent of her blood still reached his nostrils, though, thick and sticky with its sharp, metallic tang, making it impossible for him to relax.

"You won't help her by wearing a hole into the floor," a soft, grazing voice said.

Pivoting, Garrus spotted a female krogan standing in the doorway at the end of the hall. Her face was shrouded, and although he'd never met her himself, he recognized the aura surrounding her from Jane's descriptions.

_Eve._

Clearing his throat, he turned to face her completely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You haven't disturbed me, Garrus Vakarian." Her eyes creased, and he thought she was smiling.

Tilting his head a little, he asked, "You know who I am?"

"Mordin spoke of you, said the turian he worked with aboard the  _Normandy_  would be coming to Sur'Kesh with a human named Jack in need of medical attention." She lifted a hand, gesturing around her. "There are no other turians on Sur'Kesh."

Garrus chuffed and chuckled. "I suppose not. You must be the shaman from clan Urdnot."

"I am." She nodded and then turned, slow and lumberously as if it pained her to do so. "Come. Keep an old woman company while you wait. Mordin will take good care of your Jack."

"Why would you call her  _my_  Jack?" he asked, taking hesitant steps down the hall.

The shaman only chuckled, though, the scent of her amusement reaching his nose as he moved further away from the operating room. He lost track of her as she disappeared inside another room, so he picked up the pace a little, scenting the air as he went. Over the sting of anesthetic and antiseptic, he smelled the distinct scents of three, female krogans. Sickly. One balancing between life and death. Stopping in the doorway, he scanned the room, visor picking out the heart rates of the krogans, Eve's hearts beating the strongest by far.

The two others looked at him with wide, unblinking eyes, as if they expected him to suddenly sprout a second head. He chuffed softly, prepared to turn and leave them to their rest, but the shaman waved at him as she climbed onto her bed and gestured at an empty chair not far away. Hesitating, Garrus took a moment to glance over his shoulder back toward the room where Jack laid unconscious, skull cracked open, wires and tubes working to keep her going.

"Sit down, Garrus," Eve said. "There's nothing you can do for her now."

He turned back to look at the shaman, mandibles flicking. His feet propelled him forward to follow her order before even thinking about whether or not he really wanted to. Jane wasn't kidding about the level of command Eve carried. He nodded his head to the two other women and settled himself down into the chair, humming softly to himself.

"I am told you are in part to thank for my life and the lives of my sisters here," Eve said, pulling her feet up onto the bed to wrap her arms around her knees as she watched him.

Reaching up, Garrus scratched at one of his scars. "Hmmm. Yeah, I was with Shepard and Mordin when they went to look for Maelon on Tuchanka."

"There is something happening. Security has increased here, but no one is telling us anything," one of the other krogans said, the one whose hearts beat the weakest. "Do you know what's happening?"

"Terkan, we've discussed this," Eve said, and Terkan looked away. "Whatever is happening, Mordin does not want us to know, and I trust he has his reasons. He has been laboring himself nearly to death to nurse us back to health, the least we can do is honor his wishes." She turned her head to look at the third krogan who seemed far less interested in Garrus the longer he sat there. "Besides, Garrus is not here to feed us information. Surely you can see his concern. His mate is in the middle of an operation."

"Oh, no. Jack's not … we're not bonded." He chuckled, fluttering his mandibles. "And I'm fairly sure if she heard you call her my mate, she'd be ripping apart the room with her bare hands and biotics."

Eve chuckled. "A real woman, then, and a warrior, too. One who knows her own worth, who doesn't measure her value by a man." She watched him for a minute. "You love her, though."

Humming, he nodded, glancing back at the door. "Yeah. I love her."

* * *

Garrus nodded to Kirrahe when the major took a seat at the table across from him. They were in a small cafeteria on the second floor of the base, tucked back behind a lab whose door only read 'live specimens'. Garrus knew better than to ask  _what kind_  of live specimens the salarians kept in the facility, though Dawn once told him a yahg got loose on the base when Cerberus attacked, trying to get their hands on Eve and the other krogans. He suppressed a shudder, hoping to never see another yahg after his encounter with the last Shadow Broker.

"Mordin suggested you may be able to help STG acquire schematics of a reaper vessel." Kirrahe glanced around at the relatively empty room, folding his hands together on the table as his gaze settled back on Garrus. "It would significantly help us to understand how best to fight the enemy, structural weaknesses, shielding, weapons … how to defend against them, as well."

Garrus hummed, mandibles fluttering softly against his face. "It shouldn't be too hard to come by. The geth probably have something, they've been studying the reapers and fighting the heretics for awhile. And if they don't, I have a few other resources I can look into."

"Excellent. Any news on the resettlement of Rannoch? I'm quite impressed Shepard managed to pull that off." Kirrahe chuckled and then shook his head. "Though I don't suppose I should be."

Smiling softly, Garrus thought about how insistent Shepard was for the quarians and geth to take the credit for their new alliance. He hummed. "If she were here, she'd tell you it was all the quarians' and geth's doing, but, hmmm, she definitely helped by working her particular brand of magic."

Kirrahe offered him a consoling smile. "How is her recovery progressing, if you don't mind my asking?"

"The doctors say she's recovering relatively fast, but with the reapers coming …." He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.

"It's not fast enough," Kirrahe said, finishing Garrus' statement with a nod. "I understand. What are the turians doing to prepare?"

"I have no clue. I only learned about the Council's announcement maybe three hours before boarding the  _Yagow_  to bring Jack here." Chuffing, Garrus shook his head. "I barely had the chance to process the news, let alone reach out to anyone about it. If I had to wager a guess, however, I'd say planetary wide defenses are being increased on all turian controlled planets, the production of civilian ships and weapons has halted while they focus on improving and producing military grade ones instead, and a lot of turians who left after mandatory are returning to active duty. What about the salarians?"

Kirrahe tipped his head toward his shoulder. "Much the same. Many of our research facilities have shifted to focus on weaponry and shielding advancements as well."

* * *

Garrus slid his hand beneath hers when his visor picked up on the increase in her heart rate, telling him she was waking up. A moment later, her fingers twitched around his before closing completely to surround his hand. Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times before letting her eyelids flutter closed again. The corner of her mouth lifted in a sneer, and she let out a soft groan.

Humming, he brought his other hand up to brush a knuckle over her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Like fucking shit." She groaned again, tentatively running the fingers of her free hand over the Medi-gel covered incision. "Where the hell's Mordin? He better have some damn good shit to give me."

He chuckled, leaning over to kiss her hand before standing up. "I'll go let him know you're awake."

"No need." Mordin rounded the corner. "Received notification of shift in vitals." He made his way over to the bed as Garrus sat back down. Stopping next to Jack, he pulled a penlight from his pocket and shone it in each of her eyes, ignoring her growls and colorful language. "Surgery successful. Diagnostics on implant revealed potential to act as control chip. Technology somewhat more advanced than those removed from Shepard. Also capable of killing you within seconds. Most likely similar to 'killswitch' in Shepard's friend on Gellix. Lucky to be alive. Good you decided to come to me."

Jack grit her teeth, jaw twitching under the strain. "Miranda better find that sonofabitch and end him."

Garrus let out a soft growl, tightening his grip on her hand. "Don't worry about the Illusive Man. One way or another, he'll get what's coming to him. Just focus on healing from this, alright?"

"Fuck, how long do I have to stay here?" She glanced between him and Mordin.

"Two to four days, depending on your rate of healing." Mordin moved to a table next to her bed and opened a drawer, pulling out a hermetically sealed syringe and a vial. "Will have more definite answer tomorrow." He filled the syringe and inserted it into her IV port. "Will help with the pain."

Garrus watched, running his hand back and forth over her arm as the drugs took hold and she slipped off to sleep.


	12. Wrex

**Wrex**

Wrex pressed his palms into the stone slab and leaned forward. "Where are we at with the planned preparations?"

Tired and weary, he met the gazes of the other krogans standing closest to him before pushing off the makeshift table to look out over the rest. Representatives from the clans he'd managed to successfully negotiate with and bring into the fold gathered with Clan Urdnot in the Hollows. He'd chosen the Hollows because the sacred ground was considered neutral territory, a place where violence was forbidden by all krogan.

Clans not yet convinced to join with his union were invited to join him for the meeting regardless of their current standing. He hoped seeing the progress made, the way the other clans prospered under his protection, might help to sway some of those still hesitating to embrace the change. Few showed, and it didn't help his mood any. Aralakh bore down heavily on them all, the heat baking their humps and scorching their hide. It did little to soften  _anyone's_  mood.

News of Kalantha's death left Wrex angry … and … sad. But also determined. Well, more determined. He  _would_  convince all of the clans to unite and get ready for the reaper invasion whether they liked it or not, no matter how many skulls he needed to crack in the process. And, maybe more important, he'd make damn sure the krogan were deserving of the gift Shepard planned to give them. He didn't just want to see the genophage cured. He wanted the galaxy to  _respect_  the krogan, not just fear them. Fear was good, it had its purposes, but it also came with obstacles. Obstacles which nearly brought about the genocide of his people.

"Trade routes have been reinforced between Clan Jorgal, Clan Wik, Clan Hailot, Clan Dahmbra, and Clan Ganar." Jorgal Crik let out a low growl and shifted his weight. "We're having some trouble getting the materials we need to repair the bridge to Clan Quash. Some pyjak blew up two Tomkahs in the process of clearing debris from the road. Clan Jorgal lost six of our own and almost the entire shipment of supplies." He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowing as he glared at one of his fellow clansmen.

_Must be the pyjak responsible._

It wasn't what Wrex wanted to hear. Getting those supplies together hadn't been easy, but as much as he wanted to curse and punch something or someone—he looked at the krogan cowering under Crik's stare—it wouldn't serve him well just then. He turned his attention to Thrax Halvak.

"Clan Thax has finished expanding our bunkers, and we're ready to take in the new arrivals you wanted to send to us." Halvak rolled his head on his shoulders, the sound of joints popping filling the air. "Not everyone understands why you're redistributing the clans' populations, though. Some see it as a move to take over Clan Thax, bury us completely because we're one of the smaller clans."

_Oh, for the love of …._

"Clan Thax won't be the only clan taking in people from other clans. The new krogan won't become members of Clan Thax, and Clan Thax won't become members of any other clan." Wrex huffed, wondering just how many more times he'd have to explain it before it actually soaked through their thick skulls. "These migrations help everyone. It helps to feed our people, protect our people, and cement the trust between the united clans. When the reapers come, there won't  _be_ smaller clan holdings for the enemy to pick off first, and there won't  _be_ clan holdings that are too overpopulated for their territory to provide for them, weakening their ability to defend themselves. It's good strategy."

He thought it was, at least.

Thrax shrugged and grunted. "Don't tell  _me_ , Wrex. I believe you, I'm just passing on the message. Thrax is with Urdnot, and I'm here, aren't I? We're working on getting the others to see reason."

Wrex hated to admit it—Ha! He'd never admit it—but he still didn't feel entirely sure he had a good grasp on how to hold the whole thing together and make it work. He wished Shepard was …  _Shepard_. Being able to talk to her about his plans, see what she thought, would've made a world of a difference. She wasn't krogan—though she came damn close—but her opinion and insight mattered. He could only do so much with what Jane passed on to him through her, and Shepard told him to build on it and make it even better.

She  _didn't_  tell him  _how_  he was supposed to do that.

Thirteen clans already agreed to unite, and several others were close. Additional AA guns were being installed on the surface of Tuchanka at strategic points. Silos had better defenses to keep both the pyjaks and raiding clans away, not to mention make it harder for reaper troops to destroy their food supplies. The female clans agreed to survey and reinstate old farmlands whenever they found them viable, and hunting parties were restricted on what animals to consider quarry dependant on age, population, and overall usefulness. Food, water, weapons, building supplies, and medicines were being redistributed throughout the united clans according to need. What else was there for him to do?

He had to look outside of Council Space to secure the weapons and a lot of the materials they were using to build and reinforce key structures. He may not be the smartest krogan to have ever lived, but he sure as hell wasn't the stupidest, and he knew if and when the Council got wind of the krogan amassing such heavy artillery, they'd piss themselves and declare it an act of war.

Tuchanka was a heap of ruins, the krogan a poor people, but they were fearless, strong, and never short on ammo. Trade agreements offering krogan labor in lieu of supplies weren't especially easy to make, generally speaking, but in the Terminus systems and Attican Traverse, people were a lot more willing to try and keep the krogans happy. But with the Council's announcement about the reapers, even supply lines from the Terminus and Traverse were drying up.

* * *

Scouts reported in, alerting Wrex to trouble at the Shroud. The Tomkahs got there just in time to see krogan clashing with krogan—not salarians as he'd expected. Throwing himself into the fray the moment the Tomkah rolled to a stop, Wrex let out a bellow of rage and pumped his shotgun. Word long since spread throughout the clans that he had a cure in the making. In fact, it'd served to bring in a couple of new clans to his union, but he never suspected those against him would be so petty as to attack the Shroud and sabotage a cure benefiting all krogan.

Blasting his way through the flood of bullets and biotics filling the air, he moved in to flank and provide covering fire to his scouts. "Leave at least one alive. I want to know where they're from," he ordered with a snarl. "Their clan leader will answer for this!"

_With his head! Cowardly sonofabitch._

He'd missed the heat of battle, the thrum of his blood pumping through his veins, hearts beating in rhythm which each pump and blast of his shotgun, but he hated fighting against his own. Krogan pitted against krogan. Their numbers were low enough. He wanted to convince the rest of the galaxy that krogan could be civilized, could contribute to the larger galactic community in a constructive way, yet there he was, sending mass effect accelerated slivers of super-heated metal into the thick, stupid skulls of his own kind.

Having pushed the attackers back far enough for his shotgun to lose efficiency, he switched to his assault rifle and held his ground. A few of those he'd brought with him for backup succumbed to their blood rage and charged forward. A krogan slipped past his men, moving straight for Wrex, shotgun lowered at his abdomen. Wrex rushed forward, meeting the krogan and slamming the butt of his rifle into the idiot's head with a satisfying crack. When the enemy stumbled back, Wrex filled him full of holes, making damn sure he'd stay down before moving on to the next.

* * *

Clan Weyrloc. He should've guessed. Chief Weyrloc Korax's predecessor was a thorn in Wrex's side, and it looked like Korax planned to make himself every bit as much of a nuisance as Guld. Weyrloc was too big of a clan for Wrex to take head-on, not without substantial losses, and it wasn't something he was willing to risk. A few years ago, yeah, sure. It would've been  _fun_. But, he worked to uplift his people and something so brash endangered the progress he'd already made. He couldn't do that. No matter how much he wanted Chief Weyrloc Korax's head.

He paced back and forth in front of the Weyrloc captives, growling a little louder with each pass. His blood sang to him, the battle cry of his ancestors demanding he give in to his nature and rip Korax limb from limb. And use those limbs to bludgeon to death anyone who'd tried to stand in his way. Then crush their skulls and piss on their corpses. Being civilized seemed a little overrated just then.

"You want us to invade Weyrloc territory? Tear up a few things? Knock a few dozen heads together?" Urdnot Chardon sneered, checking over his shotgun. "My krantt and I are happy to handle the situation for you."

It was tempting. Damned tempting. Not to send Chardon, but to go in charging with his shotgun ready himself. He needed to cool down, think things through. He had to handle it with care. He needed to send a message that Clan Urdnot was not to be messed with and the Shroud was off-limits, but he had to do it the smart way.

_The Shepard way._

"No." Wrex paced again and shook his head. "Gather their dead, put them on a travois. Make the prisoners drag it back to their camp. Escort them to the edges of Weyrloc territory and no further."

He stopped in front of one of the captives and bent down a little, bringing his head closer to the other krogan's to stare him dead in the eye before speaking, "Tell Korax he has until the end of this cycle to agree to unite Clan Weyrloc with the others on his own, or I'll take him out and put someone in charge of Weyrloc who's smart enough to know what's best for our people."

Shifting his gaze to one of the other prisoners, he added, "In the meantime, any further acts of aggression against Clan Urdnot or any of the united clans and I'll  _personally_  ensure all trade and travel between Clan Weyrloc and  _all_  other clans are terminated. Including passage to the female camps. And then, when he's ready to prove he has more than two brain cells in that ugly ass head of his and wants to talk terms to join the united clans, I'll  _consider_  entering into negotiations with him."

* * *

"Mordin, Clan Weyrloc sent some thugs to attack the Shroud. I took care of it, the Shroud's fine, but if you want to come look it over, I'll clear the way for you," Wrex said as soon as the salarian appeared on his omni-tool's screen.

Old hatred made him feel sick at the idea of trying to ensure a salarian's safety, but that particular salarian was going to save his people. And Shepard liked him. Wrex supposed it counted for something.

Mordin blinked twice. "Will come once certain remaining females will survive."

"Is that Wrex?" Garrus' flanging voice cut through before the turian shifted into view. He chuckled, a grin spreading his mandibles. "Wrex, how's it going?"

"Garrus." Wrex bobbed his head, keeping his tone gruff despite the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There he was, making nice with a salarian  _and_  a turian. Shit. Maybe he had gone soft. "What are you doing on Sur'Kesh?"

"Work to do. Will transfer call to Garrus' omni-tool," Mordin said, voice dry as he waited for Garrus to accept the call.

The screen flashed as the call changed locations, and Garrus flicked a mandible, walking away from the salarian's desk. "Jack was … hmmm …" He flicked his mandibles again, brow plates drawing in. "… captured by Cerberus while going after the Illusive Man. We got her back, but they put something in her head, a control chip like they did with Shepard. We needed Mordin to take it out."

Wriggling a little as he leaned back on his throne, Wrex brought the bottle of ryncol to his lips and took a heavy swallow. "That rotten sonofabitch isn't dead yet?"

"Not yet." Garrus chuffed and took a seat, reaching up to scratch at one of his scars branching out over his hide. "Miranda's still going after him, though. I'm starting to think it's a fool's quest. Tali and the other quarians went back to Rannoch. Legion, too. Jack's here with me now. Just leaves Miranda, Jacob, Grunt, and whatever Cerberus crew she thinks she can trust enough to have her six. Well, and EDI."

A grumble slipped out of Wrex before he took another drink. "So why aren't you helping? Shepard wants him dead, right?"

"I—well, I thought they'd take care of it, and I wanted to be on the Citadel with Shepard. Plus, don't know if you noticed these incredibly striking new scars of mine," he said, a smirk on his face as he pointed at the lightning bolt patterns sweeping over his throat, "but they weren't the only injuries I sustained."

Wrex had seen the scars the last time they talked, and he knew Garrus got them while fighting the old Shadow Broker. He didn't really understand what the turian was whining about—obviously he wasn't on his death bed, so why wasn't he out fighting? "My mistake. I thought you were the same Garrus Vakarian who I fought beside to take down Saren, a horde of indoctrinated, rampaging krogan, and the geth."

"Trust me, Wrex, I  _want_  to see the Illusive Man get what's coming to him, but … damn it." Mandibles flattening against Garrus' jaw, he chuffed and shook his head before running a hand over his crest. When he spoke again, his voice came out a little higher, a little rougher. "I'd be a liability out there right now. I can barely handle wearing light armor. My heart stopped on that ship, my brain damn near fried. I don't have redundant systems or cybernetic implants to speed up my healing processes."

Taking in the obvious signs of frustration written all over Garrus' face, Wrex let the silence sit a minute before sighing. "That bad, huh?"

"That bad," Garrus agreed with an agitated flick of his mandibles.

"Huh." Wrex guzzled from the bottle of ryncol before letting out a loud belch. "Your batarian friend can't help them?"

Garrus hummed and nodded, the plates of his face relaxing once more. "He's working on it, but he's already got his people doing a lot of other things to get the galaxy ready for the war. Still, once they track the Illusive Man down again, Grundan Krul will send support."

Popping both shoulders up, Wrex let them drop again and asked. "So what are you worried about?"

Chuckling, Garrus tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. Laughter shifting to a low groan, he looked at Wrex again. The grief in his eyes aged him about three-hundred years. " _Everything_."

And by 'everything', Wrex knew he really meant 'Shepard'.

"She'll pull through." Wrex said, adding a little more conviction to his voice as he added, "She's strong. Almost as strong as a krogan, and she's got an iron will."

"Yeah," Garrus said, lowering his gaze and fluttering his mandibles. "Yeah, she does." A heavy sigh drifted out of him before he looked up again, eyes clear of the pain but seeming somehow colder than a moment before. "Anyway," he said with a chuff. "Trouble with Weyrloc?"

Lip lifting in a sneer, Wrex grunted and took a swallow of ryncol before answering, "The new leader has the mentality of a pup about to take his Right of Passage. He can't look past his blood lust to see what's good for him. What's good for his clan and all krogan. Still, I think Korax will be easier to wrangle than Guld would've been. He'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Garrus lifted the brow plate above his visor.

"If he doesn't, I'll replace him with someone who will." Wrex grumbled, shifting around on his throne again, trying fruitlessly to find something resembling comfort. "It's important for the clans to retain their individuality despite being united as a people, and we can't afford an all-out war between clans right now."

Garrus hummed, mandibles relaxed. "And the planetary defenses?"

"It's slow going. There's only so much we can do with no real economy, but we've got a few new AA guns, and we're shoring up structures." Wrex took a deep breath and shook his head. "The Council's announcement that the reapers are real and coming has actually made it far more difficult for me to keep the flow of supplies coming into Tuchanka. Everyone's keeping everything to themselves, trying to stock up. Then again, it also opened the door for trade within Council Space since I don't need to worry about the Council having a panic attack over krogans seeking out anti-aircraft weapons."

"Hmmm. I'll talk to Grundan Krul. He might be able to get some resources reallocated." Garrus glanced over to the side. "No promises," he said, turning back to Wrex, "but I'll see what we can do."

"I won't turn down the help," Wrex said with a grunt. Pride colored everything every krogan did, making a part of him want to insist they'd handle it on their own, but he had to learn to work diplomatically.

"Good." Garrus flicked a mandible and smirked. "It'd be stupid to turn it away." He shifted back in his chair, draping an arm over the side. "I've met the female krogans. Mordin's wearing himself thin hawking over them, but they're looking good. Spirits know they look far better than the bodies Maelon left in his wake. I'm no doctor, but I think Mordin may actually be able to keep more than just the shaman alive this time."

Wrex huffed. "He damn well better."


	13. Samara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if my chapters are short for awhile. I'm in a funk, and this is the best I can manage for the time being.

**Chapter 12: Samara**

"Mother?" Confusion, surprise, and maybe even a hint of fear crossed Rila's face. Hands frozen in the air, hovering over her meal tray, she didn't seem capable of tearing her gaze from Samara to take the bite of food waiting on her fork.

"Hello, Rila. It is good to see you." Samara offered her daughter a smile despite the images of Rila's last moments haunting her memory. The things she saw on her walk with Jane within Shepard's mind never left Samara. Not for a moment. She must make certain those things never came to pass.

Chair scraping across the floor as she stood, Rila continued to stare, wide-eyed, at Samara. After a moment, she took two, hesitant steps forward. "I'm so happy to see you, but … why have you come?"

Samara crossed the floor to embrace her daughter, ignoring the other Ardat-Yakshi staring at them with a mix of envy and fear. Pulling back, she held Rila at arm's length to look her over. "You look well. Where is Falere?"

"She went to her room to read." Voice rising, taking on a hint of panic, Rila asked again, "Mother, why are you here? What's happened?"

Pressing her palm to Rila's cheek, Samara smiled. "I have failed you by not coming to visit more often. Please, finish your meal, and then we will go sit with Falere and talk. It has been too long."

* * *

"Mirala is dead?" Falere wiped tears from her eyes as she lowered her gaze. Staring at her hands held in her lap, anger filled her voice in contradiction to the softness of her tone. "You killed Mirala?"

"Falere … you knew Mirala refused to join us at the monastery. You know what that means," Rila said before casting a furtive glance at Samara, "and Mother called us before she committed to her path as a Justicar. This was expected."

"I suppose I thought that after more than four-hundred years …." Falere took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling helplessly with the motion. "What's done is done. What will you do with yourself now, Mother?"

"I hope to ensure the two of you are safe before the war begins." Samara crossed her legs, settling her hands down on her knee. "When it does, I must fight wherever I am most needed."

"War? What war?" Gaze darting around the sparsely furnished room as if expecting to find soldiers with weapons aimed and waiting for her in the corners, Falere swallowed before returning her attention to Samara. "What do you mean ensure we're safe?"

"There is something I must tell you. A complicated story, one in which I am not completely sure where to begin or how to tell you." Samara took a moment to consider what, exactly, she wanted to tell her daughters. "My hunt for Mirala led me to Illium, but she escaped once again. While searching for her trail, the name of the ship she left on, I met a woman named Commander Shepard. A human. She served in the Alliance Navy and is the first human Spectre.

"She asked for my assistance in a matter—collectors were abducting entire human colonies out of the Terminus Systems where neither the Alliance nor the Council holds political sway. I agreed to help her if she aided me in finding your sister. I swore an Oath of Subsumation—" Samara paused when both of her daughters gasped. "I believed her quest was just, and she proved herself to be an honorable woman. She found the name of the ship while I waited with the Illium police."

"The police?" Falere asked, brow rising.

Samara smiled. So many years had passed since she sat and conversed with her daughters, yet she still recalled and cherished Falere's curiosity and constant need to ask questions instead of having the patience to wait for the answers to come in their own time. "Yes, but that is of no importance right now."

"Of course." Cheeks turning a darker blue, Falere waved a hand before folding them in her lap once more. "I'm sorry, please continue."

"While working with Shepard to fight the collectors, I learned of the existence of a terrible threat to the galaxy." Samara paused, anticipating Falere's interruption.

"What kind of threat?" Adjusting her skirt, Falere pulled her legs up on the bed, tucking them in beneath her. She braced her elbows on her knees, leaning in a little closer to Samara—just as she used to do when she was a child and Samara would sit with the girls to read them a story.

"There is a race of sentient AIs who have existed far longer than even I can imagine." Samara had seen them clearly through the memories Jane shared with her. She saw the enormous ships descending, tentacled protrusions reaching downward like the claws of some nightmarish creature as they landed. Artificial beasts come to rend the very planet and consume everything that walked upon the surface. She heard the blare of their sirens and saw the twisted, empty shells of every species swarming over and slaughtering everyone in their wake. And it frightened her.

"Every fifty thousand cycles," she said, straightening her shoulders as she pushed the images aside, "they return to the galaxy from dark space to harvest the races which have reached a certain level of technological advancement."

"Harvest?" Falere's brow knitted with her confusion, eyes narrowing. "What are you saying?"

Rila reached over, settling her hand on her sister's back. "She's saying they come here to kill everyone."

"Indeed." Samara sighed. It would be so much easier if she could simply share everything with her daughters, but she'd sworn to Shepard that she would tell no one about Jane and the others. "Although it is far more complicated and disturbing than simply mass murder."

"How so?" Rila asked, gaze steady on Samara.

"I cannot explain to you exactly what I know or how, but please, trust that I do know. These AIs, Shepard calls them reapers, do not simply slaughter the advanced races. They take some and turn them into mindless monsters and use them as soldiers against everyone else."

"Goddess." Falere brought a hand to her mouth, fingers fluttering uselessly over her lips.

"The collectors were acting under the guidance of the reapers. I have seen and fought against terrible creatures who were once human but no longer can be called such." Samara needed to remind herself that she was not speaking to children, despite how young Rila and Falere still seemed, having lived most of their lives in seclusion. Still, she found it difficult to share with them the most gruesome of details. "Other humans were being … broken down, their bodies used to help build a new reaper within the collector base beyond the Omega 4 Relay."

Neither Falere or Rila appeared to have anything to say, yet the horror reflected clearly in their eyes. It pained Samara to see such a look on her daughters' faces; it hurt more to be the one to put it there. They needed to know, though. It was unjust for Tevos and the other councilors to keep such information from the public, and she most certainly would not keep it from her daughters or anyone else willing to hear the truth.

Standing, Samara tucked her hands behind her back and moved to stare out the window. "Other races have been taken by the collectors for countless cycles, though on a far smaller scale. They looked for members of the different races with specific and unique traits or mutations."

"Mutations … like Ardat-Yakshi." Rila always was so wise, quiet and shy at times, but when she did speak her intelligence showed so clearly.

"Which is exactly why I must take measures to protect you and your sister, as well as all Ardat-Yakshi who call this monastery home." Turning back around, Samara faced Rila and Falere.

"Why?" Falere sat upright, feet flat on the floor once more. Her lip lifted in the hint of a sneer, but her disdain rang clear in her voice. "To keep us safe or to make sure we're not turned into weapons?"

Rila's brow furrowed, and she turned her gaze on her sister. "Falere."

"What?" Falere glanced at Rila, shrugging and shaking her head. "She said it herself, they turn people into monsters and set them free against people." Turning her attention back to Samara, she lifted her chin in challenge. "Aren't Ardat-Yakshi already  _monsters_? Demon of the night wind. It's what Mirala was. What  _we_  are. What better people to take to turn into these soldiers?"

A soft tut of reproach slipped past Rila's lips. "You're being crass."

"Falere is right." Samara lowered her gaze to the floor as she crossed over to sit back in the desk chair. "This is a great concern, and I have reason to believe when the reapers arrive, the monastery will be a target for this very reason." Meeting and holding Falere's gaze, she said, "This does not mean, however, that I do not also wish to keep you safe. You are my daughters, and I love you."

Tears welled in the corners of Falere's eyes, but obstinance locked her jaw. A moment later, she cast her venomous accusation, "Like you loved Mirala?"

"Falere!" Rila's voice raised, her sister's behavior apparently disturbing her more than the news Samara brought. She rushed to her feet and spun, blocking Falere from Samara's sight. Her hands fisted at her sides, biotics licking at her skin as she looked down at Falere.

Urging Rila aside with a gentle hand at her elbow, Samara said, "I accept your anger, Falere. Killing Mirala was the hardest, most painful thing I have ever had to do … but I did as I must; she needed to be stopped, and she was my responsibility." She couldn't bring herself to tell them that she wasn't even the one to kill Mirala in the end.

* * *

Samara knelt in the center of the circle created by Justicars, hands resting on her thighs, surrounded by her biotics. Although they all looked at her, she kept her gaze focused on the edicts of The Code carved into the stone of the temple. She still believed in The Code, still felt the call to service as a Justicar, but her time with Shepard and everything she saw during her time aboard the  _Normandy_  left her feeling as if The Code was no longer … adequate. Not while facing a threat such as the reapers she saw in Shepard's mind.

It pained her to think such things, especially in the presence of her sisters, but she felt the truth of it weighing heavily on her shoulders as she explained her concerns to the Justicars. It was a blessing they dared not ask her for more evidence of the reapers or demand she reveal how she came to possess knowledge of such things, understanding she learned about them while under the Oath of Subsumation.

She didn't withhold much from them, however, only those things which were personal to Shepard and her crew. Unfortunately, that included Shepard's unique circumstances with Jane and the others, which encompassed most of what Samara learned about the reapers. Still, she believed there was enough evidence otherwise, and the Council finally spoke to the public about the threat. It appeared to be sufficient for her sisters.

"What exactly are you asking for, Sister?" The voice came from somewhere behind Samara, one she didn't readily recognize. "The Ardat-Yakshi  _must_  remain at the monastery. Surely you understand the need for this."

"I do," Samara agreed.

"Then what do you propose?" Nasteria asked, her voice giving nothing away as to what she might think of anything Samara had to say.

"The monastery must be placed under guard," Samara said, ignoring the desire to meet their gazes. It was imperative she kept her focus on The Code. It was the way of the Justicars. If she looked away, her motives would be questioned, seen as unjust. "It will come under heavy fire, and by a deadly enemy with nothing to lose. An enemy which does not feel pain and cannot be reasoned with. If the reapers are allowed to take the Ardat-Yakshi, the Ardat-Yakshi will be turned into a force even more terrifying than they already are and used to slaughter us all."

Samara told them of the human husks and the collectors, proven to be nothing but mindless shells of the ancient and revered prothean race. She told them what she could of Sovereign and Harbinger, spoke to them of the monstrosity the collectors were building in their base. Surely they understood how detrimental it would be for the reapers to claim the Ardat-Yakshi.

"You are certain of this?" Another voice she didn't recognize.

"I am," Samara said.

"The Order will gather in the conclave and discuss these things." Halvetta, an Elder of The Code, stood in front of Samara, signaling the end of the supplication ritual. "Justicars will be sent to reinforce the monastery, and we will speak to the leaders of the Republics. If such a war is coming, we will all be needed, regardless of the threat the Ardat-Yakshi pose in the hands of the reapers."

* * *

"Hello, Shepard." Samara studied the commander's face on the screen of her omni-tool, noting the unsettling way the woman's eyes moved around, unwilling or unable to hold Samara's gaze for more than a second or two at a time.

She knew there were times in the lives of the other Shepards in which they chose to allow Morinth to kill her, seduced by the Ardat-Yakshi's promises. She'd felt the guilt and remorse from most of those while she melded with Shepard. She wondered if it was the same emotions which kept Shepard from looking at her just then or if it was a more general symptom of her current instability.

"Samara, we're glad you called." Shepard settled on Samara for the span of a heartbeat, violet eyes reflecting the glow of a nearby lamp, before her gaze drifted away once more. "How are things?"

"I have returned to Thessia, to my daughters." Saying so brought a smile to Samara's face only for it to falter as the next statement settled onto her tongue. "I told them of their sister's death and warned them of the war to come. I have also spoken with the Justicars, informed them of what the reapers might do if they are able to breach the monastery and capture the Ardat-Yakshi. We are placing Justicars at the monastery and reinforcing defenses as well as engaging in discussions with asari leaders to prepare for the war."

"Good." Shepard nodded, licking her lips as she glanced around. "Good, hopefully, it's enough to keep Rila safe."

"Indeed." Hesitating, Samara weighed out the risks of upsetting the woman before asking, "And how are you, Shepard? It is good to hear your voice again and to see you more alert."

"We're …" Frowning, Shepard shifted on the couch, brow furrowing deep. "… I'm … confused, but we're trying."

The familiar voice of James trickled through the call. "You want me to tell her what the doc said, Lola?"

Shepard looked up and off-screen before nodding. "Yes."

James sat down next to her and smiled at Samara. He looked tired and worn, darkness ringing his eyes and a thicker stubble decorating his chin and jaws. "Hey."

"Hello, Lieutenant." Samara dipped her head to him in greeting. She liked the usually energetic man, young and full of life with a burning desire to make the galaxy a better, safer place for those unable to protect themselves. A noble and just goal.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he laced his fingers together and leaned closer. "Dr. Chakwas said her implant readings are showing that she's pulled in even more of the others. The good news, they seem to be sort of coming together faster than before. She's stabilizing faster this time, too."

"I am afraid I do not understand." Samara waited patiently, knowing the lieutenant would elaborate further and make things clearer.

"Oh, uh, Jane said that when we got back from the collector base … uh, Ídola sucked in a bunch of Shepards like she did when she woke up from the coma." James rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Shepard who sat next to him passively. "Except for this time, with the trauma of losing people and how many she pulled in, it opened the door for—"

"Us," Shepard said.

"Right." He nodded, turning his attention back to Samara. "And she did it again a few days ago. So, there are hundreds of consciousnesses vying for control on Ídola's side of 'The Veil'. But they're starting to sort of merge together."

"I see … and what of Dawn?" Samara didn't understand how such things could be, but she knew the universe held many more mysteries than she could ever hope to understand in her lifetime.

James shrugged, glancing at Shepard again. "She's still in there, somewhere." The statement sounded more hope-filled than a certainty.

"She's not crying anymore," Shepard said, gaze finally settling and staying on Samara, "but she still doesn't want to talk."

"I understand." Samara did understand the pain of losing people, and she sincerely hoped Shepard's grief passed. She'd come to see Shepard as a friend, and it pained her to see the woman so bereaved. "I hope you all continue to make progress. I must go, my daughters are waiting for me. I will keep you updated as much as I can. Be well, Shepard."


	14. Miranda

**Miranda**

Medi-gel soothing the fire burning through her abdomen, Miranda struggled to pull her hands and knees beneath her, fighting like hell to get back on her feet. Loud barks of gunfire filled the air around her, rivaling Grunt's enraged bellows. A hand slipped under her arm, and she flared, ready to fling biotics at her attacker until she caught sight of the rainbow-hued drell. She licked her lips. "Feron," she said, more for her sake than his as she let him pull her to her feet.

He watched her for a second, probably to make sure she wasn't going to just fall again, before turning his attention back to the battle. She moved to cover and peered around the edge, trying to locate her firearm lost in her last scuffle. Kai Leng avoided Grunt's charge, his light, malicious laughter trailing after him as he cartwheeled away. She spotted her gun … right next to where he came to a stop, gaze locked on her as he twirled his sword.

Growling, Grunt swung around and open fired, giving her the opportunity to put a little more distance between herself and the Cerberus assassin. Pulling biotics into her hand, she flung a Warp at Kai Leng before turning and running. She slid behind a desk, cursing the fact that her weapon was even further out of reach. A moment later, an asari—the same one who helped on Gellix—dropped down next to Miranda, pulling a pistol from her side and passing it over with a nod.

"Thank you." Miranda checked the thermal clip before pressing her back to the desk and peered around the edge. With Kai Leng no longer within her line of sight, she leveled her weapon on the nearest commando and squeezed the trigger.

They'd finally tracked the Illusive Man down again, hidden away on Benning—once again, well within Alliance protected space. So close to the Arcturus Station, it put Miranda in a tough spot. She'd told Councilor Anderson that she would let him know when she found the Illusive Man again, but he'd also told her that the Alliance could be of no more help in her hunt. Uncertain as to whether or not that meant they might stand in her way should her mission find her back in Alliance territory, she decided it would be best to wait until after she killed the Illusive Man to inform Anderson. She prayed it wasn't a mistake.

Unsurprisingly, the Illusive Man had them pegged the moment the  _Normandy_  entered the atmosphere. Within seconds of landing, Cerberus commandos and phantoms swarmed the docks, forcing them to fight from the moment they stepped off the ship. Even if they hadn't already known which building the Illusive Man chose for his hideout, the constant wall of Cerberus troops would've led them right to his location. Naturally, the coward sent his guard dog after them when they came too close and locked himself away at the back of the building. EDI kept Miranda updated on his movements, but for the time being, he didn't appear interested in running anymore.

* * *

She stood over Kai Leng, blood dripping from a gash above her eyebrow. He coughed and groaned, rolling over to pull himself up, but she kicked him in the ribs, forcing him back to the floor. She raised her pistol, putting him in her sights, but before she could pull the trigger, he spun, kicking out his legs and sweeping her off her feet. She fell, hitting the ground nearly hard enough to knock the air from her lungs.

Up and running before she regained her bearings, he headed for the exit. The staccato fire of every gun on her team followed him, but still, the sonofabitch made his escape.

"Damn it!" Miranda took Jacob's hand when he reached for her and pulled herself up. "Go!" she yelled, waving her hand at the others. "Get him!"

She didn't waste any more time, hightailing it toward the door, gun ready. Bursting through, she found the hall empty. She clenched her jaw, waving Grunt and the other heavy hitters forward. Kai Leng had become a serious thorn in her side, and she wanted him dead almost as much as she did the Illusive Man. Almost.

* * *

Blood painted the floor in rainbow-colored splotches, the air so thick with the metallic scent it choked with every breath. Drenched in blood herself, she couldn't even tell how much of it belonged to her. Her thigh and back burned, the right side of her face swollen, making it difficult to see. Between biotics and firing her weapon so much, her hands felt a little numb. The constant gunfire left her deafened, nothing but a high-pitched whine filling her head. They were out of Medi-gel, even what little they scavenged off of dead Cerberus troops.

The asari who'd sacrificed her pistol to Miranda now lay lifeless a meter away. Unfortunately, she wasn't the first and unlikely to be the last of the Shadow Broker's team to fall. Feron sat propped against the crate next to her corpse, blood trailing down his arm, chest heaving. He adjusted his grip on his weapon and turned out of cover. Across the room, Grunt roared, just as bloodied and bruised as the rest of them, and charged toward a piece of machinery at the back of the factory where more troops hid.

Miranda kept firing, following the path a nameless turian—one of Grundan Krul's men—and Jacob helped to clear for her as they tried to push their way toward the Illusive Man's last known location. He'd taken a hit and ran for cover, but Miranda didn't know how badly he'd been hurt. She needed to know he was truly  _dead_  before calling a retreat. His life was the only one that mattered, all the rest wearing Cerberus colors would belong to her once he died, even if they didn't yet know.

The far wall exploded, sending twisted, white-hot shards of metal and cinderblock flying through the air. The piece of machinery Grunt fought next to caught fire, blasting apart a moment later, and she lost sight of the krogan. An invisible fist closed around her throat, denying her of oxygen, and it had nothing to do with the billowing, black clouds of smoke swiftly filling the factory.

"Grunt!" she yelled, unable to really even hear her own voice above the chaos.

If he died, if she lost anyone else close to Shepard ….

She slapped her hand to her comm. "Grunt!" she called again, even as another rocket tore through the wall a little further down, giving her view of a gunship just outside before it started firing.

Jacob grabbed her, wrestling her to the ground behind cover. His mouth moved, but she couldn't make out what he said. She slapped at him, trying to wriggle free, but she was no match for his strength, especially in her injured state. When he eventually let her go, she gripped her pistol tight and flared with biotics, peering around the edge of the cooling system. She growled as Kai Leng finally showed himself again, dropping down from the catwalks above where the Illusive Man fell.

Kai Leng pulled the Illusive Man's limp and bleeding body up over his shoulder, fully restored shields brushing off their attacks, and cast one last glance at Miranda before running and jumping out of the last hole blown in the wall. She ran to the opening, glancing down just in time to see the gunship disappear around the building, Kai Leng crouched low on top, the Illusive Man pinned to the roof of the gunship beneath his hands.

* * *

"I've been receiving reports of the destruction of a factory on Benning all morning, Ms. Lawson. It seems a whole horde of men and women in Cerberus armor were found inside once the fires were extinguished, along with nearly a dozen members of other races." Anderson stared at her a moment, hands held behind his back, face expressionless. "Am I to assume this was your doing?"

As if the massive damage done to her face didn't speak for itself.

She sighed, pressing her palms to the conference table. "You said the Alliance could no longer assist in my hunt for the Illusive Man. I thought it prudent to discuss Benning with you after the fact."

Lips pressing together, he hummed. "Did you get him?"

Miranda took a deep breath, letting it rush out of her as she tentatively explored the cut above her brow with gentle fingers. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" The councilor tilted his head a hair and raised his brows.

"He was injured. Possibly killed. I wasn't able to verify his state before Kai Leng carried him away from the fight. He looked dead, but he might have only been unconscious." Pushing back from the table, she crossed her arms. "Kai Leng escaped with the Illusive Man on a gunship. There were too many troops still in play, Grunt was buried beneath burning rubble, and we were all injured. We were unable to pursue."

He nodded and lowered his gaze. After a moment, he looked up again and asked, "Did Grunt make it?"

"Yes." She shifted her weight and waved in the general direction of the med bay a deck below. "He's in the med bay raising hell as we speak."

"Good." He nodded again, shoulders hefting with a quiet, deep breath. "Shepard's lost enough, but she's starting to make progress. Another member of her team dying would set her back."

"Agreed," she said.

"If you intend to have Cerberus working with the Alliance when all is said and done, then we can't have another Benning incident, Ms. Lawson." Anderson held her gaze, steely eyes unforgiving in their sincerity. "Are we clear?"

She pursed her lips but gave him a slight nod. "I understand, Councilor."

"I'm happy to hear it. Let me know when you track him down again." Dropping his hands from behind his back, he moved closer to the camera. "I may not be able to get the Alliance to provide troops, but at the least, I can convince them to clear the way for you."

* * *

Miranda sat down in the Illusive Man's chair, the Cronos Station eerily quiet, and took a deep breath. It was a dangerous decision without being utterly and completely certain the Illusive Man was, in fact, dead, but she had no choice. The game of cat and mouse needed to end. She needed to seize Cerberus' reins and start implementing plans to prepare for the reaper's arrival.

She swiped her hand over the screen, pulling up the Cerberus Network. EDI already hacked through the firewalls protecting the system, giving her full access. Taking another deep breath, she began typing.

" _The Illusive Man no longer controls Cerberus. You now report to Persephone. Full reports of all projects will be submitted within five days. Failure to comply will result in the withdraw of all Cerberus funding of your projects and strike teams will be sent to bring you in to answer for your lack of cooperation. Operative Kai Leng's access has been revoked. He is no longer welcome in any Cerberus facility and is wanted for questioning. Engage at your own risk. The Illusive Man is presumed dead, however, should he resurface, report his whereabouts immediately. A reward will be issued for any information leading to the capture of either the Illusive Man or Kai Leng."_


End file.
